July 7 EST: Dr. Christina Propst, a longtime Houston pediatrician, is out of a job after writing on Facebook that victims of the catastrophic Texas Hill Country floods “got what they voted for.” Her post specifically called out Kerr County, a heavily Republican area where at least 82 people, including 27 children, died in rising waters over the weekend.
“May all visitors, children, non‑MAGA voters and pets be safe and dry … Kerr County MAGA voted to gut FEMA. They deny climate change. May they get what they voted for. Bless their hearts,” she wrote.
That last line—“Bless their hearts”—was the match to the gasoline.
Fired After Fallout
Blue Fish Pediatrics, her employer, didn’t wait long. Propst was suspended almost immediately, then fired outright by July 6. The clinic said in a statement that her words didn’t align with their values of “compassion, professionalism, and trust.”
Memorial Hermann, the major health system affiliated with the clinic, also weighed in—quickly distancing itself from her, saying it had no employment relationship with the doctor and condemning her remarks outright.
The post, which had already made the rounds on social media by then, drew swift and visceral backlash from across the state. Strangers and former patients flooded the clinic’s pages, some praising the firing, others accusing the company of caving to public pressure.
“I’m no MAGA fan,” one Facebook user wrote, “but wishing harm during a disaster isn’t political commentary—it’s cruelty.”
A County in Mourning
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Kerr County had just begun counting the dead. Entire families were swept away near the Guadalupe River. Camp Mystic, a girls’ camp near Hunt, was particularly hard-hit. Local officials confirmed 27 children died there when flash floods surged through the area.
For residents digging through mud and memories, Propst’s post landed like a punch to the gut.
Kerr County is indeed deeply conservative—over 76% voted for Donald Trump in the 2020 election—but for many there, the idea that their political choices justified tragedy was both callous and incomprehensible.
“She doesn’t know who we lost,” said Laura Mendez, a teacher in nearby Ingram. “She doesn’t know which kids we’re burying this week.”
The Medical Board Takes Notice
Now, beyond losing her job, Propst is also facing possible professional consequences. The Texas Medical Board confirmed it has received complaints and is reviewing them. Board President Dr. Sherif Zaafran said there’s “no place for politicizing disaster” and promised a thorough investigation.
What that leads to is still unclear. The board has wide discretion but tends to reserve formal discipline for violations tied to care standards or conduct with patients. Still, even being on their radar is serious.
Propst hasn’t issued a public statement or apology. Her social media accounts are gone, and the clinics where she once worked have scrubbed her name from their directories.
Not the First Time, Not the Last
This isn’t the first time political commentary in the wake of tragedy has stirred outrage in Texas. Just last month, a former member of Houston’s Food Insecurity Board stepped down after suggesting that GOP voters “bootstrap themselves” through climate disasters.
And in a country where natural disasters are becoming more frequent—and more politicized—the Propst incident is just the latest flashpoint in a growing question: How far is too far when it comes to saying the quiet part out loud?
According to The Houston Chronicle, the National Weather Service had issued proper warnings before the Hill Country floods. Staffing levels were normal. Local emergency services weren’t caught flat-footed—they were overwhelmed by nature itself.
Which makes Propst’s comments feel, to many, not just inappropriate but wildly unfair.
Free Speech vs. Decency
There’s also the lingering debate about whether doctors, or any professionals, should be judged by what they say online. Some defenders have pointed out that Propst’s post, while abrasive, was political speech protected by the First Amendment.
But that argument hasn’t found much traction, not even among fellow progressives.
“It’s not censorship,” said Dr. Anita Vasquez, a pediatrician in Austin. “It’s accountability. You can’t care for children in the morning and mock dead ones by lunch.”
For a lot of people—especially those with muddy boots still drying on porches in Kerr County—what mattered wasn’t the politics, but the timing. The grief is still raw. Parents haven’t even gotten all the bodies back. The rain only just stopped.
New Jersey Times Is Your Source: The Latest In Politics, Entertainment, Business, Breaking News, And Other News. Please Follow Us On Facebook, Instagram, And Twitter To Receive Instantaneous Updates. Also Do Checkout Our Telegram Channel @Njtdotcom For Latest Updates.
A political science PhD who jumped the academic ship to cover real-time governance, Olivia is the East Coast's sharpest watchdog. She dissects power plays in Trenton and D.C. without bias or apology.
