Phillip Macedonia: Still Singing

He loves to sing. Especially Thai love songs. A friend of his described the style of music as “kind of like country western.”

When I tell you Phillip Macedonia’s story…you might be surprised that he is still singing.

His life began in Laos. After fighting for four years in the Vietnam War and spending some time in a refugee camp in Thailand, he ended up coming to the United States. He’ll show you two wounds from where he was shot in the war. On one leg he can show you where one bullet entered, and where it exited.

Phillip and his family were advised to leave Laos by the CIA—told that the Communists may harm them if they stayed. After the Communist takeover of Laos in 1975, many citizens and members of the military suspected of aiding the enemy were killed (Phillip estimates over 100,000 were killed.

Then, Phillip and his family members were almost denied entrance to the United States because they didn’t know their birth dates. To this day, Phillip’s driver’s license reads “1/3/50.” I think his brother and sister were 1/1 and 1/2…birthdays assigned by U.S. immigration officials. Phillip doesn’t know exactly how old he is.

But, they made it to the United States in 1980. And Phillip worked hard for 12 years—as an office cleaner and in other jobs—building up a nest egg for his retirement.

In November 1992, Phillip’s house was set on fire. Police officials told Phillip it was likely started by a family member with the hope of taking life insurance money. Phillip was burned. Badly. 80% of his body was burned. He was in a coma for 10 months. His heart stopped 17 times. He weighed 168 pounds before the fire and 80 after. His hands are badly damaged--his fingers a little over half the size they were. He had a heart attack, likely caused by bad medicine. One doctor pronounced him dead…but then they somehow got his heart started again. “They pounded on me too much…got it going again,” he says with a smile.

As he lay in a coma, family members emptied his bank account using his identification and forging his signature. His life savings of $33,000 went to zero. Two family members later spent time in jail.

He now lives on very modest Social Security income with the help of some donated food.

Good grief, I thought. How much can one guy take in life? Apparently, a lot. Because Phillip Macedonia and I laughed for a good portion of the time we spent together.

I asked him if he would like to use a computer at the new Community Center at the apartment community where he lives if we got one. I had forgotten about his hands. He held them both up in front of me and laughed hysterically.

I asked, "What do you like to do?" "Read the Bible," he said. So, I said, if we had a Bible in the Community Center maybe we could read it together? He said yes. In fact, he said, "I would love to do that." As we talked, he proceeded to rattle off Scripture references about various topics as if he wrote the thing.

I asked Phillip about a lot of subjects. Were you angry at the people who burned you? “Yes,” he says. Are you angry now? “No. I forgive them.” Were you angry at God? “No. God didn’t make me burn. God loves me.” It’s as simple as that.

Are you sad about all of these terrible things that have happened? “I was so sad before. I am not sad now.”

His longtime friend Chai Voraritskul relayed: “Phillip lives a very peaceful, simple, straightforward life.”

I talked with Phillip about heaven. Are you afraid of dying? “No.” I guess a man who has endured what he has is likely not afraid of anything. Are you looking forward to having a new body in heaven? “Oh yes.” He holds up his shriveled, short fingers in front of me and says: “In heaven, this will change. I will have a new body. No more ugly. I will have a nice new body.”

Shot, burned, and robbed. Heart stopped 17 times. Pronounced dead. 93 surgeries. To call Phillip Macedonia a survivor would be quite an understatement. He’s a survivor…with a song in his heart.