She was transparent when she was facing days that required more resilience than others, but never projected her hardships onto others. She was a tough cookie—the kind that was willing to call something as it was, and unafraid to speak her mind from a place of justice and integrity. She was someone who knew where she wanted to go, and no one was going to come between her and that call to make the world a safe and better place for all.

I can only imagine how much more she had grown into her identity since I last spoke to her. I know that she could only become more radiant and surefooted in her dedication to medicine and discerning others’ needs. I wish I could have gotten to know her more and see who she becomes, but I will always have the first impression of her and her passion. She will be missed, and I feel blessed to have witnessed her becoming.

Life is fragile, and tomorrow is never guaranteed. Let’s choose what matters, release what doesn’t, and walk forward with open hearts, remembering the life of Hannah.

Laughing with you and Ivy is how I will remember you. 🤍

There was one week where we got to do patient encounters together in the same room, where one of us would take the lead and the other would perform the physical exam. She blew me away with her ability to connect with not only the patients, but the families as well. She was incredible at it. I actually even texted my friend later saying, "Wow, you know who is really talented at patient counters? Hannah."

I know that she had a tough line-up for upcoming rotations at the hospital after our rotation together. I thought about her a lot during those months, knowing that she was working really hard. We talked a lot about how one day, this would all be worth it. It breaks my heart that she is no longer with us; she was going to be a phenomenal physician. I am thankful for the time we got to spend together, and I feel blessed to have gotten to know her.

My sweet, Taylor Swift loving, #1 Target fan, and Chuy’s loving bestie. The world will never be the same without your light and joy. I will forever cherish our Target runs, our late night study sessions, and dinners. One memory I will hold on to is when you were at the Eras Tour, and I get a FaceTime call just so you could share with me Ms. Swift revealing her music video on the night of the Speak Now (TV) release. Even though it was your first time seeing her in concert, you still thought of me and called me. That was exactly the type of friend you were- always selfless and genuine. You were there for every one of my lows throughout medical school and life. It has been so hard to focus on school, but I know if I didn’t keep pushing you would haunt me for the rest of my life. Thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader, my ride or die, my life raft when I was drowning in doubt. You taught me what it was to be a friend and how to support friends unconditionally. I don’t have enough words to convey just how much our friendship meant to me, so I will leave it with quote from our favorite musician. “Long live all the magic we made.” Until we meet again, my friend, I love you.

Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for the dinners, the long talks, and the good company. Thank you for the laughs on hospital rounds. Thank you for the homemade crafts, the sweet treats, and the countless thoughtful gestures. Thank you for the endless support and encouragement.

You were a true friend that fiercely cared for and loved her people. I feel lucky I knew you.

Arkansas life and medical school won’t be the same without you. My life won’t be the same without you. I will remember you and think of you often. I will always strive to be an empathetic friend and compassionate physician in your honor.

Rest in peace Dr. Ford.

Love, Emily

When I lived there, I stayed in a townhouse, where my office faced apartment buildings. Studying at night, I would notice a singular light on the top floor stay on. It wasn’t until I posted a video of a snowy day did Hannah respond confirming that it was her apartment. How comforting it was to see that same light stay on during the raggedy hours of night and dawn before an exam. Like a lighthouse for ships lost at sea. I confessed this to her after realizing her desk also faced my window, with her admitting she noticed it too. She also requested I text her if that light isn’t on before an exam, meaning she overslept.

When I first visited her place, I was astonished by her interior design. The words “divine feminine” slaps you upon entering. Imagine pink kitchen knives and extravagant mugs spilling out of the cabinets like trophies. Looking around, it was so Hannah. If I ever needed to crash for a night, her door was always open with extended invitation. When studying together, she would abruptly get up and start making cookies as an anxious response. We held each other’s hands while booking our board exams. We watched High Potential as she did her nails and discussed our anxieties and dreams while playing with Ivy. Before I left her place for the last time, she handed me a bag of lemon cookies saying in a stern voice, “You need to eat all of this. I can tell you’re not eating,” before handing me another bag of healthy snacks for the drive back to Texas “and these also.” I was so stressed, I didn’t even notice. But Hannah did.  

Dr. Hannah Ford, every moment of self-doubt or sense of loneliness dissipates when talking to you. I can’t count the numerous times we have picked each other up while navigating the rough waters of med school. Yet we made it through together. Our friendship meant so much to me during those times. I know you’re at peace and your last moments were filled with joy. I thought I would be able to write on your wall when I came to terms with this but occasionally reality seems to muffle. And I pause. Then all that love ricochets back to me like crashing waves until I can’t tell the difference between drowning and floating. I’ll keep my office light on and be the lighthouse for both of us. For now, let me keep you here just a little while longer wading in these memories.

We were women together.

We will be doctors apart.

Your heartbroken friend and first patient,

Stephanie Samuel