THERE ARE TWO sets of skid marks on FM 159, a rural stretch outside of College Station, Texas: The first two are dark, parallel streaks of burned rubber marking where a car came to a sudden stop. A second set marks the point, according to police, where the driver rapidly accelerated in reverse.
They are indelible remnants of boxer Hannah Rapp's fatal encounter with Charles Eric Medina on July 18.
Police accounts detailed the following: The marks came from Medina's 2008 Honda that passed two bicyclists -- Rapp and her boyfriend, Will Pollalis -- coming within about a foot of clipping Pollalis' left arm. He reacted by raising his hands and yelling. Medina stopped, reversed and hit Rapp, her head striking the Honda's rear window, shattering it.
Rapp, a 26-year-old up-and-coming professional boxer, crumpled face down in the road.
It's unclear whether Pollalis and Medina exchanged words or sat in silence until first responders arrived. When they did, they found Medina sitting in a ditch on the side of the road. Rapp had yet to be pronounced dead.
Medina later told police he thought Rapp and Pollalis were trying to flag him down. According to a police account, Medina said he backed up and didn't see Rapp "until the last moment before he hit her."
Pollalis would later tell police he had never seen anyone slam on the brakes like that. Police later said, "the angle of the reverse skid marks appeared as if [the driver] was steering towards something while backing up."
Sometime in the interim, Pollalis called Carl Perry, Rapp's veteran boxing coach.
The boyfriend rarely called the coach, and then only if it was close to fight time and he knew that Rapp had cut herself off from the outside world, Perry told ESPN.
This time, though, there wasn't a fight on the horizon. Pollalis was crying and panicked. Something was wrong.
ON HIS WAY to the scene, Perry said he saw an ambulance pass. He arrived after nine minutes, but by then the road was already blocked by police. He parked his car 100 yards away and ran.
"I already had the feeling that Hannah had passed," he said.
Rapp wasn't there. She had left in the ambulance.
His description of what happened next suggested rage was boiling inside the muscular ex-MMA champion as he asked whether Medina was "the motherf---er that did this?"
Medina, 31, who lives about two miles from the crash site, was standing about 60 to 70 feet away, Perry said. At the time, Perry was unaware of Medina's long history with police -- 50 encounters over the past eight years, multiple arrests, jail time and one court-ordered psychological evaluation.
Perry moved toward Medina. Police stood between the two men. They told Perry he couldn't talk to Medina. The coach said he wasn't going to talk.
"I'm going to swing on him," Perry said.
Police told Perry that if he got any closer, they would arrest him for obstruction. Perry stopped but had one request for authorities.
"I kept saying it over and over," he told ESPN. "'Don't y'all let this motherf---er go home tonight.'"
HANNAH RAPP DIED at the hospital the day of the crash.
At a candlelight vigil four days later, friends and family members were asked to single out Rapp's most memorable feature. The consistent answer: her smile.
"Infectious," co-worker Ester Chalmers said.
The Yorktown, Indiana, native always seemed to be smiling. But that didn't mean she was immune to tough times. During her college days at Purdue, according to Rapp's mother, Angie Grimes, Rapp lost her walk-on spot on the track team when pandemic budget cuts affected the Boilermakers' athletic department.
"So, track was over," Grimes said. "And it was just like this existential crisis of: If I'm not a track star, what am I?" That's when she developed an eating disorder, according to Grimes.
Rapp entered a residential treatment facility, Grimes said, and found boxing as therapy. After she got out, Rapp began training on her father's heavy bag and liked it. "What boxing did for her was replace everything that she had lost from all her high school sports," Grimes told ESPN.
Rapp worked out at boxing gyms in Indiana, but her career didn't ascend to the next level until she moved to Texas, where her boyfriend accepted a job as an instructional assistant professor at Texas A&M. Rapp worked at Texas A&M fire and life safety during the day and trained at Bryan Boxing Club at night, fighting under coach Perry. Ryan "Cowboy" Karl signed on as her manager.
Rapp, speaking in interviews shown in memorial tributes after her death, said that she loved the science of boxing, making small tactical improvements as she went along. She became known as "Hanarchy" and often told sparring partners she was feeling "dangerous" before she got in the ring.
"I have a good personality about me, I think," she said in one interview. "I'm personable and kind. People have a hard time connecting the two but, once they see me in the ring, they say, 'Oh, she can fight.'"
After just eight amateur fights, Rapp made her professional debut in April 2024, when she beat Kavarcia Polk and eventually signed a promotional deal with Texas Combat Sports. She didn't lose until June 13 this year, when she faced Tiara Brown, who defeated her by unanimous decision. They fought for 10 rounds, but Brown retained her WBC featherweight title.
"Hannah went in there and fought, toe-to-toe, with the world champion, with the No. 1 woman in the world," Perry said.
MEDINA WAS ARRESTED for manslaughter on the day of the incident. (Days later, police separately arrested him for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon related to the boyfriend). On Tuesday, Medina stood in front of Judge John Brick in the 272nd District Court in Brazos County, Texas. He wore an orange jail jumpsuit.
Explaining how Medina could have still been on the streets despite a litany of arrests, the prosecutor described how Medina was able to repeatedly meet bond and get out of jail.
Authorities had set Medina's bond at $500,000 for the aggravated assault arrest and $250,000 for the manslaughter arrest. If you include neighboring Grimes County, the total amount of bail money owed by Medina on a slew of arrests is more than $1 million.
Donna Black, from Aggieland Bail Bonds in Bryan, Texas, told ESPN she has known Medina for more than a decade. "He has to show his face before he goes to court," Black said, "Since 2012, I've probably met him ... at least 20 times."
Medina's attorney, Sarah Wilkinson, did not respond to calls from ESPN but argued at the hearing that the combined sum is oppressive for a man who has yet to be convicted of a felony.
Judge Brick disagreed. He did not lower Medina's bail.
Brick set bail at $200,000, plus mandating a GPS ankle monitor and house arrest, for a 2024 arrest for deadly conduct in the discharge of a firearm. He also set bail at $4,000 for evading arrest in 2025. Medina had been released two days after the 2024 arrest and on the same day in 2025. Both cases remain open.
In the 2024 incident, Medina waved a hatchet and machete at passing cars, according to a police report reviewed by ESPN. The police account said Medina was "chasing cars and a short time later, reports were that the male was now shooting a gun."
In response, police deployed drones, and Medina "began firing multiple rounds from his handgun towards the drones that were in the air." The police report said Medina fired to hit the drones "with no regard of where the bullet trajectory ended up which could have injured or killed one of the numerous law enforcement officials on the scene or citizens that lived in the area."
After Medina's arrest, a judge ordered him to undergo a psychological evaluation, after which the judge ruled that Medina was competent.
In Brazos County, the sheriff's office first arrested Medina in 2012 for reckless driving and evading arrest with a vehicle. Medina pleaded guilty to both charges but was not convicted of evading arrest. Records show Medina was arrested for hit and run in 2020. That was dismissed in 2021.
Brazos County assistant district attorney Jessica Escue declined to comment about Medina.
"He is a danger to himself," Brick said from the bench as he explained why he was denying the defense request for reduced bond. "He's a danger to his family ... danger to the public. ... I believe that after reading how many contacts the sheriff's office has had with him out in the public with a knife, with swords, with a shotgun, even a vehicle, he is a danger. He's a danger to law enforcement. He fights them, resists. He evades from them. I do find that he's a serious flight risk because of his history of running from the law."
ALLEN LEE JONES said he owns property along FM 159 near Medina's residence and not far from the crash site. When ESPN arrived there on July 23, he parked his pickup truck behind a closed bent and rusted gate and stood behind its No Trespassing sign.
When asked about Medina, Jones paused and said: "Police have come out a lot."
Shane Muth, who Jones said lives on his property, told ESPN by phone that he interacted with Medina often. Medina and a relative "think they own this stretch of road. You can't pass them up or, if you go too slow or too fast, they try to run you off the road," Muth said.
Jones and Muth said they believe Medina's behavior took a turn after a serious car accident several years ago.
ESPN also spoke to Gabriel Peña, a father of four who said he was inside an area Walmart on Jan. 31, 2025.
At the store exit, a man told him someone had shot his unoccupied truck. Peña shared a photo and video of the pickup truck, taken on the day of the incident. In the video, Peña said he was told a black car pulled into the parking spot next to his truck and used a shotgun. The photo shared by Peña showed a large hole in the driver's side windshield and one near the driver's side door, just to the right of a decal indicating that Peña is a veteran. He said he spent 14 months in Iraq.
Peña called 911 and said that authorities better arrive quickly. "I carry a 9 mil [handgun] with me," he told ESPN. "I said, 'If this guy's around, he's going to get shot. I will shoot whoever did this.' Not because I want to kill somebody, but I'm not going home in a body bag."
A SWAT team arrived, Peña said, and authorities told shoppers to wait it out inside the Walmart. Peña said he never came face to face with Medina, but local news stories said police sought Medina after a report of a reckless driver on a nearby highway. Another caller to police "reported seeing a suspect in a matching vehicle fire a weapon at a parked car in the Walmart parking lot, then drive off," a story from KBTX News said.
Police found the vehicle nearby in Millican, Texas, and arrested Medina after they found him on a porch, according to the story. The story said Medina "was found under the influence."
Peña filed a police report for the truck incident and shared the report number. ESPN has requested it separately. Peña said the case remains pending and told ESPN he paid a $1,000 deductible to fix his damaged truck and sought restitution but has not received any.
"I'm over here trying to support my family," Peña said.
ABOUT 400 PEOPLE gathered on July 22 outside Bryan Boxing Club for a vigil honoring Rapp, filling the sidewalk and spilling into the street outside the gym near the train tracks. They sweated through triple-digit temperatures that remained even after the sun went down.
A man passed out candles, walking in the road with a bucket full of them. Kids in Rapp-themed T-shirts held their candles in front of them. It was announced that Rapp would be inducted into Indiana's Boxing Hall of Fame in 2027.
Will Pollalis' mother, Brenda Pollalis, led those gathered in "This Little Light of Mine."
"Won't let Satan [blow] it out," she sang. "I'm gonna let it shine."
Halfway through the vigil, a man fainted -- the grief and heat combining to send him to the pavement, according to Perry. Once the man recovered, the coach picked up his speech where he left off.
"Most of all, we hope Hannah's story can inspire meaningful change," he said. "In her honor, we're advocating for Hannah's Law."
A Change.org petition titled "Justice for Hannah Rapp" had more than 11,000 signatures near the publication of this story.
The petition said the potential state law would "expand judicial authority ... to deny or revoke bond when clear legal standards establish that a defendant presents a substantial danger to the community," as well as require courts to consider "a defendant's documented history of violent offenses" and to "strengthen accountability for repeat offenders."
Patsy Gyllin, one of Rapp's friends from Indiana, told ESPN by phone: "There's no other word than preventable. ... This petition is not about ... getting revenge. It's about saving the next person."
IN THE PASTOR'S office at Christland Church in College Station, Perry stood from a leather couch and reenacted what he remembered of Medina on July 18.
According to the coach, Medina wore no shirt, just shorts and crocs, and didn't speak. He held his right arm behind his back but wasn't handcuffed. He hit himself in the head with his left hand. Then, according to the Perry, Medina looked at him and the boyfriend, Pollalis, took his hand out from behind his back and pointed in their direction.
"That's when I lost it and said [to police], 'Hey, he's taunting us,'" Perry said.
Perry said police told Medina to sit in the roadside grass with his back to the coach and boyfriend.
Four days after the accident, Perry said he accompanied Rapp's family to the Brazos County District Attorney's office. Rapp's loved ones wanted assurance authorities wouldn't lower Medina's bond, Perry said, and make it easier for him to return to the streets.
That same day, unrelated to the coach and family's visit, authorities added the aggravated assault with a deadly weapon charge. "I just wanted everyone to keep signing that petition," Perry said.
Outside the pastor's office, visitors paid respects. At the celebration of life that followed, Perry spoke as well as friends and co-workers -- along with Rapp's parents, who had driven from Indiana. Pollalis, who declined an interview with ESPN, did, too.
His mother stood to his left, her right hand rubbing his back and coaxing his words through the sobs. Pollalis said he and Rapp did everything together. They cooked and cried. Wandered and laughed. They ran home in the rain and biked under the sun.
They planned to travel to Iceland in August, where they would marvel at the solar eclipse. He said the couple agreed to plan their wedding while they were there.
"You didn't know it," Pollalis said as if speaking to Rapp, "but we were going ring shopping as part of your birthday present."
Rapp's birthday was Wednesday, 11 days after her death.
"I'm sorry I waited," he said.