The life story of Patrick Hardison from Mississippi is nothing less than a mind-blowing one. This man is the first American who has received a face transplant back in 2015 after his face and neck were left completely disfigured during a house fire.
Patrick’s life was a great one up until the day the tragedy struck in 2001.
He worked as a volunteer firefighter earlier in his life, so when he got called to help with a house fire, he didn’t hesitate. Sadly, once he entered the burning place, it collapsed on top of him and trapped him. He couldn’t move and his torso and face were severely burnt.
“[My mask] was melting to my face,” Patrick recalled. “My hose [was] already melted.”
“For somebody who does what we do for a living, I’ve never seen anybody burned that bad that was still alive,” friend and first responder Jimmy Neal told CBS News of seeing Patrick after the accident.
Patrick suffered third degree burns on his face and scalp. He also sustained burns to his head, neck, and upper torso. The fire also claimed his ears, lips, most of his nose, and even most of his eyelid tissue.
“I didn’t actually see myself until probably November. I got injured in September,” Patrick told Fox News. “They had cut a little pinhole in one of my eyelids because they had everything covered, skin graft. I looked in the mirror and all I could do, I said, ‘this is it? I can’t do this,’” he recalled.
Over the years, this man was forced to undergo over 70 surgeries, as well as other procedures. He couldn’t close his eyes and doctors were able to put together flaps of skin to protect his vision, but he was still facing the risk of going blind.
Patrick couldn’t eat without feeling excruciating pain. He just couldn’t get used to this life because he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. Wherever he went, everyone starred at him, and he could barely stand being around people, even his children.
In order to hide and protect himself, Patrick wore sunglasses and a baseball cap all the time. He also had ear prosthetic.
“I had kids. It was just a tough time. I never got a day off from the injury. When you walk out in public, it was daily. And, you know, it’s just so — there’s no way to explain everything,” he told Yahoo! Sports.
“You go to the ball field, you have to prepare yourself for the kid that goes running off screaming.”
Years went by and Patrick lost hope of ever having a normal life. But then, French woman named Isabelle Dinoire received a partial face transplant after her face was severely disfigured by her pet dog. This procedure was revolutionary. It was the first ever of that kind. Surely, it gave a glimpse of hope to Patrick who at that point was truly struggling.
Patrick met doctor Eduardo D. Rodriguez from the NYU Langone Medical Center in New York who told him he would do the transplant surgery if they find a matching donor. It wasn’t easy, but one day, out of the blue, a donor appeared. LiveOnNY, a nonprofit that coordinates organ donations in the New York area, had found a match. The face Patrick was about to get belonged to 26-year-old David Rodebaugh who had sustained a massive head injury in a bike accident and had been declared brain dead.
This young man’s mother, Nancy Millar, decided to donate her son’s organs, including his face. “I said, ‘You better save his face. He has the face of a porcelain doll.’ And he’s a donor — we had talked about it,” Millar told People.
The thought of someone receiving her son’s face meant that David would continue to live on through the people whose lives he was about to save, including Patrick’s.
“When I met Patrick, I saw this strength, this strong, manly, burly kind of energy in him — that David had,” Nancy recalled.
“David wanted to be a firefighter, an I knew if this guy was a firefighter — he was willing to walk into a fire to save people and risk his own life — then he had the strength that David had.”
Finally, the day of the transplant surgery had arrived. The procedure lasted for 26 long hours and was performed by a team of 100 professionals.
The risk was enormous and Patrick was given a 50/50 percent chance of survival. Luckily, it was a huge success. Patrick received a new face, scalp, ears, and ear canals. He also received eyelids which allowed him to blink naturally and save his vision.
“Everything in life has a risk,” Patrick told Time Magazine.
“When it’s your time to go, you’ll go—whether you’re walking down the street and get hit by a car or you’re lying on the operating table.”
After he recovered from the swelling and he learned how to talk and swallow again, Patrick met his donor’s mother. Nancy only had one request, to kiss Patrick on the forehead.
“I said, ‘Can I kiss your forehead?’” Nancy said. “That’s the one thing I wanted to do because every night before David went to bed when he was little, I kissed his forehead.”
“I’ve been waiting a year to meet her. I’m just very grateful,” Patrick added. “Without her, it wouldn’t have been possible. It’s like she’s family. We connected that easily.”
Ever since the surgery, Patrick is taking anti-rejection drugs that prevent his immune system from rejecting the face, but he’s thriving. He didn’t only receive a new face but a new life too.
Today, he is divorced and is working on a book which he hopes would serve as an inspiration to anyone who believes there is no way out from the situation they have found themselves in. “Because I want to show the world that you can have hope. I wouldn’t want people that were like me years ago to think that’s it, I have to live like this. You don’t. You can accomplish anything,” Patrick says.
His survival and his recovery are dubbed miraculous. Thanks to Nancy, Dr. Rodriguez and his team, and Patrick’s strong will, today, he is a happy man.
I Was Excited to Meet My Daughter’s Fiancé, but One Look at Him Changed Everything and I Knew This Wedding Couldn’t Happen — Story of the Day
I had been waiting for months to meet my daughter’s fiancé, imagining the perfect introduction. But when I opened the door and saw him, my excitement vanished. This wasn’t what I expected. I knew, in that moment, this wedding couldn’t happen. I had to stop it—no matter what it took.
I had been running around the kitchen all day like a madwoman because today was important—Kira was finally bringing her fiancé and his parents over for dinner.
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I had dreamed of this moment for months, picturing how we’d sit together, laughing over stories, bonding as future in-laws.
But for some reason, Kira had avoided it, always coming up with excuses. “They’re busy, Mom.” “Another time, I promise.” It didn’t make sense. What could be so hard about introducing us?
But now, she had no choice. Marcus had proposed. It was official. And that meant I was meeting him—and his family—whether she liked it or not.
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Bradley sat at the table, flipping through the newspaper, watching me with amusement.
“Sit down for a minute, Jessica,” he kept saying.
I waved him off. “I don’t have time to sit! The roast is in the oven, the table’s not set, and the flowers—where are the flowers?”
Just as I started setting the food on the table, the doorbell rang. My heart pounded. This was it.
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“Oh God, they’re here!” I shouted, yanking off my apron and tossing it onto the counter.
Bradley barely looked up from his chair. “I’ll get it,” he said, calm as ever.
“No!” I rushed to his side. “We have to greet them together!”
Bradley sighed but stood up. I grabbed his arm and straightened my dress, forcing the brightest smile I could manage.
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“Can I open it now?” he asked.
I nodded.
Bradley pulled the door open. There stood Kira, glowing with excitement, her fiancé Marcus beside her, and behind them, his parents. My smile froze. My breath caught. My heart sank.
They were Black.
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I blinked, trying to process what I saw. My mind spun. This wasn’t what I had expected. I glanced at Bradley. His face had gone stiff.
“Mom?” Kira’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Are you going to invite our guests inside?”
“Yes, of course,” I said quickly, my voice strained. I stepped aside, letting them in.
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I led them to the dining table, but my hands trembled. My thoughts raced. I needed a moment.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I just need to bring out a few more dishes. Kira, come help me.” I turned to Bradley. “You too.”
Kira hesitated but followed me. Bradley trailed behind.
As soon as the kitchen door swung shut, I turned to Kira.
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“Is there something you forgot to tell us?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your fiancé is Black!” The words burst out before I could stop them.
“Yes, Mom. I know.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes hardened.
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“Why didn’t you tell us?” I demanded.
“Because I knew how you’d react,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just give Marcus a chance. He’s a good man, and his family is wonderful.”
Bradley’s voice cut through the air. “My daughter is not marrying a Black man.”
“That’s not your decision to make!” Kira shot back. Her voice shook, but she stood firm. “Can you two just act normal for one night?”
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Without another word, she stormed out.
Bradley and I carried the dishes to the table in silence. No one spoke much during dinner, though Kira and Marcus did their best to keep the conversation going. The air felt heavy. Every bite tasted like nothing.
After dinner, Kira pulled out her childhood photo albums. She laughed as she showed Marcus old pictures. I watched them from across the room, my stomach tight.
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Beside me, Marcus’s mother, Betty, leaned in. “What do you think of them as a couple?”
I hesitated. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not racist,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just think Kira would be better off with someone… more like her.”
Betty nodded. “I completely agree. I don’t think they’re a good match either. Marcus would be better off with someone who understands our… culture.”
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I exhaled, relieved. “You’re reading my mind.”
Betty straightened. “We can’t let this wedding happen.”
“No, we can’t,” I agreed.
From that day on, Betty and I formed an unspoken alliance.
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We both wanted what was best for our children—or at least, what we believed was best.
We picked fights over everything. Betty criticized Kira’s dress choice, saying it didn’t fit their traditions.
I argued with Marcus over the menu, insisting Kira wouldn’t be happy with his family’s preferences.
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When it came to the church, Betty and I nearly came to blows. She wanted the ceremony at their family church, I wanted it at ours. We disagreed on music, guest lists, even the seating arrangement.
But none of it worked. The more we pushed, the stronger Kira and Marcus became. Instead of seeing their differences, they only clung to each other harder.
So, we had to be smarter.
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I arranged a “harmless” lunch for Kira with my colleague’s son, a polite young man with a stable career and good family values.
Meanwhile, Betty set up a meeting between Marcus and a woman from their church, someone she believed would be a “better fit.”
Of course, we never called them dates. That would have raised suspicion. We just needed them to show up.
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That evening, we gathered at Betty and Rod’s house. Bradley and I arrived early, and while Betty and I whispered about our plan, I noticed something odd—Bradley and Rod were sitting in front of the TV, laughing over beers.
When I got Bradley alone, I hissed, “What’s going on?”
He shrugged. “What? We root for the same team. Rod’s a good guy.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
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“I am,” he said, taking another sip.
I heard the front door swing open and slam shut. Heavy footsteps echoed through the house.
My heart pounded. I rushed into the living room, where Betty was already standing, her arms crossed, her face tense.
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Kira and Marcus stood in front of us, their eyes burning with anger.
“Are you out of your minds?!” Marcus yelled, his voice shaking.
Kira turned to me, her face red. “Our wedding is in a week, and you’re setting me up on a date?”
I opened my mouth, but Betty spoke first. “We just wanted what’s best for you.”
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Kira let out a bitter laugh. “Best for me? You think lying to me, tricking me, humiliating me is what’s best?”
I took a deep breath. “You could both find someone more… suitable,” I said, keeping my voice calm.
Kira’s whole body stiffened. “I don’t care what color his skin is! I love Marcus. I want to be with him.”
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Marcus stepped forward. “And I love Kira. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
I looked at Betty. She looked at me. We both stood there, silent.
“We were only doing what we thought was right,” I said finally.
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“Exactly,” Betty agreed, nodding.
Kira shook her head, an empty laugh escaping her lips. “You keep saying how different we are, how we shouldn’t be together. But look at you two! You’re exactly the same. Stubborn, manipulative, always scheming.” She turned to me, her voice sharp. “Mom, you spend more time with Betty than your own friends.”
I opened my mouth to respond. “You don’t understand—”
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Kira cut me off. “No, you don’t understand! I’m marrying Marcus. Whether you like it or not. Accept it.” She turned, glancing at the couch where Dad sat with Rod, watching the game, laughing like nothing was wrong. “Even Dad is sitting here drinking beer with Rod. If he can accept it, why can’t you?”
I swallowed hard.
“If you can’t accept it, don’t come to the wedding,” Kira said.
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“That goes for you too,” Marcus told Betty, his voice firm.
Then, without another word, they turned and walked out the door.
The silence that followed was thick. No one spoke. No one moved. A moment later, Bradley let out a deep sigh, turned off the TV, and stood up. “Time to go,” he muttered.
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I saw the look in his eyes. Disappointment. Not in Kira. In me.
That week, I called Kira. I texted. No response. The silence stretched.
On the night of the rehearsal dinner, I walked into the bedroom and found Bradley tying his tie.
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“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To the rehearsal dinner,” he said, straightening his collar.
“You can’t go!” I snapped.
He turned to me. His voice was calm, but his eyes were firm. “My only daughter is getting married, and I’m not missing it.”
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Then, he walked out the door.
I stood there, staring at the empty space he left behind. My chest felt tight.
Finally, I gave in. I found myself outside the restaurant, watching through the window. Kira and Marcus moved through the guests, glowing, smiling, happy.
A familiar voice spoke beside me. “You couldn’t sit at home either, huh?”
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I turned. Betty stood next to me, arms crossed.
“I’ve been trying to catch them to apologize,” she admitted. “But they’re too busy.”
I sighed. “We should wait. No need to ruin their evening now.”
Betty exhaled sharply. “But we have to apologize. I want to be allowed to see my future grandson.”
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I crossed my arms. “Granddaughter. In our family, girls are always born first.”
Betty scoffed. “Not in ours. It’s always boys.”
For the first time in weeks, I laughed. We were already arguing over grandchildren who didn’t even exist yet.
I looked at her. She looked at me.
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“Oh, we’re going to have a rough time together, mother-in-law,” I said, shaking my head.
“Tell me about it,” Betty muttered.
Then, she sighed, watching Kira and Marcus. “But as long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
I nodded, my eyes fixed on my daughter. She looked happier than ever.
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