Where Heart Meets Home

The Ward Family’s Journey to Henderson

Photo by Darrin Phegley

When Dylan and Hannah Ward officially moved to Henderson in January 2025, it wasn’t their first chapter with the city. In many ways, it felt like the natural continuation of a story that had been unfolding for more than a decade — one built on public service, perseverance, faith, and a fierce commitment to family.

Today, Dylan, 34, serves as Henderson’s City Manager. Hannah, 33, works part-time as a math interventionist at Henderson County High School while also balancing life at home with their two children: Lindleigh, 7, a second grader, and Caleb, 3, a preschooler, both in Henderson County schools.

From the outside, their life looks full — school events, city projects, soccer games, community festivals. But woven into their story is a journey that has reshaped their understanding of resilience, redefined what “home” means, and deepened their love for the community they now call their own.

A Calling to Community

Dylan’s connection to Henderson stretches back long before he became City Manager. Growing up in Ohio County, with family ties in Evansville and Daviess County, he spent plenty of time in Henderson. But it was after graduating from Western Kentucky University in 2013 that the city became something more.

He had three job offers. One was with the City of Henderson as an Engineering Assistant.

After interviewing with city leaders, including then-Assistant City Manager Buzzy Newman and City Manager Russell Sights, Dylan felt something click.

“I knew this was the job I wanted and the place I wanted to work,” he says. “I never dreamed what it would later lead to.”

What began as an entry-level position turned into a steady climb through leadership roles — Engineering Assistant, Public Works Engineer, Project Manager, Assistant City Manager, and ultimately, City Manager.

“I had never even heard of a city manager before coming to work for the city,” Dylan admits. “But once I saw the role up close, I realized it was my dream job.”

The position merged his engineering background with his love for leadership and his desire to serve. Over time, the projects he worked on became personal. There was pride in bringing his family to see a completed park or public improvement — knowing he had played a role in shaping it.

“There’s something special when you live in the same community that you work to help make better each day,” he says.

However, for the first several years, that wasn’t possible. The family lived in Owensboro, balancing proximity to extended family and Hannah’s job while Dylan commuted to Henderson daily. Eventually, after several promotions and much conversation, the Wards decided it was time to fully plant roots.

They weren’t just moving houses. They were aligning their home with Dylan’s calling.

Building More Than a House

The relocation process was filled with anticipation. The family chose to build their first home in Henderson — an experience Hannah describes as exciting from start to finish.

They even started Lindleigh in school before the home was complete. Each morning, she rode to Henderson with Dylan; each afternoon, Hannah picked her up and brought her back to Owensboro.

“It gave them valuable time together each day,” Hannah says.

When the house was finally finished, the feeling was immediate.

“When we stayed there as a family for the first time,” Dylan says, “that’s when it felt like home.”

They quickly met neighbors, including a family across the street whose daughter became like a big sister to Lindleigh. Their home sits adjacent to The Bridges Golf Course — one of Dylan’s own city projects — adding another layer of connection.

Even as someone who doesn’t golf, he smiles at the symbolism.

“It further cemented that sense of familiarity, pride, and home.”

A City That Embraced Them

Henderson didn’t just welcome Dylan in his professional role. It embraced the entire Ward family.

They’ve grown fond of local favorites like Rookie’s, Hometown Roots, Homers, Tacoholics, and Coffee + Cream. The kids love the library and the YMCA. Summer Reading in the Park, downtown festivals, and riverfront fountains have quickly become part of family life.

On Mondays, especially in warmer months, they often head downtown for dinner and ice cream — a tradition they call “Memory Mondays.” Fridays have become “Family Fridays.” Saturday mornings frequently start at the YMCA, followed by pool time together.

Hannah, too, has found her place. Working part-time at Henderson County High School has provided both professional fulfillment and community connection.

“It’s been the best of both worlds,” she says. “It’s made the transition so much easier.”

But by the time the Wards officially moved to Henderson in January 2025, they weren’t just changing addresses — they were stepping into a new season after years that had already reshaped their family.

That turning point began three years earlier, while Hannah was pregnant with Caleb. In January 2022, during a routine anatomy scan, doctors struggled to get a clear view of one side of the baby’s heart. At a follow-up appointment on February 1, 2022 — after a two-hour scan with a maternal-fetal specialist — they received the diagnosis: Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome (HLHS), a rare and life-threatening congenital heart defect.

The Diagnosis That Changed Everything

HLHS requires a series of three open-heart surgeries — the Norwood, Glenn, and Fontan procedures — performed in stages during early childhood. There is no cure, only management. Even with successful surgeries, patients face lifelong monitoring and the possibility of future complications.

The timing felt particularly disorienting. Just one day before learning of Caleb’s condition, Dylan and Hannah had been asked to publicly share their plans to become full-time missionaries in El Salvador — a path they had spent two years preparing for.

Overnight, everything changed.

“We felt pretty defeated on multiple fronts,” Hannah says.

And yet, even in that early grief, moments of unexpected hope began to surface. The day after their diagnosis, a coworker approached Hannah and shared that he had dreamed everything would be good with her baby — a detail he couldn’t have known she desperately needed to hear. 

Soon after, they were connected to a prayer room in Owensboro where people regularly gathered to pray for their unborn son. During one of those visits, someone mentioned the biblical story of Joshua and Caleb and prayed that their son would carry that same strength and faith. The name Caleb immediately resonated. When they later learned that the name means “whole-hearted,” it felt especially significant — a quiet confirmation in the middle of uncertainty.

In April 2022, the family temporarily relocated to Cincinnati, living at the Ronald McDonald House near Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. Caleb would be born there and immediately transferred to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit.

The early days were filled with uncertainty. Doctors had warned they might not be able to hold him after birth.

But when Caleb arrived, he didn’t require immediate oxygen support. Dylan and Hannah held him for nearly 30 minutes.

The following day — Mother’s Day — Lindleigh was able to meet her baby brother, thanks to recently lifted visitor restrictions.

“When Caleb was born, everything was good and everyone was happy,” Hannah says.

It was a moment they still revisit with gratitude – a dream come true.

Life in Survival Mode

The next six months were spent in Cincinnati. Caleb underwent his first two open-heart surgeries. For 14 months, he relied on a feeding tube. There were blood sugar concerns, therapies, weight struggles.

Hannah describes that season simply: survival mode.

“Parenting a young child while caring for a medically complex baby is not an easy task,” she says. “You do the best you can with what you have in the time that you have it.”

Lindleigh, just 3 years old at the time, showed remarkable resilience — adjusting to life at the Ronald McDonald House, preschool in Cincinnati, and the shifting attention that comes with having a critically ill sibling.

“She continues to show so much understanding and compassion,” Hannah says. “She prays for him every night that his heart would get better.”

The support surrounding them was extraordinary. Their parents rotated weeks in Cincinnati, renting a nearby apartment. Friends organized prayer vigils and visited often. Nurses at Cincinnati Children’s became trusted teammates.

“We fully believe thousands of people have prayed for our son,” Dylan says. “He is the bravest, strongest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. He may be small, but he is mighty.”

Coming Home — Again

Today, Caleb is awaiting his third surgery — the Fontan procedure — which is scheduled for May 28. His oxygen levels currently hover around 85 percent. He tires easily on stairs. The upcoming surgery will not cure HLHS, but it is expected to improve his oxygen levels and overall stamina.

The future remains uncertain. The surgical series was only developed in the 1980s, meaning long-term data is limited. Some HLHS patients require heart or liver transplants later in life; others grow up to live full, active lives.

“That’s our hope for Caleb,” Hannah says.

Through it all, Henderson has become more than a professional destination. It’s become a support system.

Caleb’s new teachers and administrators are invested in him. New friendships have formed. Dylan’s colleagues have been understanding and generous.

“Moving to Henderson has only broadened our support system,” Hannah says.

A Family Marked by Resilience

Ask them to describe their family in three words, and the answer comes quickly: resilient, faithful, compassionate.

They’ve learned to live intentionally. To sing and pray together before bed. To celebrate small joys — ice cream after dinner, open soccer play at The Plex, monthly All Pro Dad meetings at Lindleigh’s school, where Dylan now leads a program that regularly hosts more than 100 fathers and children.

Some people in town recognize him from that role more than his city title.

And that feels right.

Because at the center of everything — public leadership, medical advocacy, relocation, community building — is family.

Redefining Home

The Wards have lived in a home in Owensboro, a Cincinnati hospital-adjacent room, and now a newly built home in Henderson. Yet Hannah’s reflection captures what ties it all together.

“Home is wherever I’m with you,” she says.

For six months, home was a Ronald McDonald House room within walking distance of a hospital bed. Now, it’s a house near a golf course in a city they are helping shape.

Henderson is where they work. Where they serve. Where they are building friendships and routines. Where their children are growing.

It is also where their story — shaped by heartache and hope — continues to unfold.

And for the Ward family, that makes it home.