02/01/2026
A Heartfelt Tribute to the Life and Legacy of Butch McKay
Today, I find myself struggling to put into words the depth of sorrow that has settled over my heart. This morning, I received one of the most devastating phone calls I’ve had in more than a decade. After a lifetime of loss — after the 1990s stole so many friends to AIDS that grief became a weekly ritual — I had begun to wonder if I was even capable of feeling that sharp, soul‑deep pain anymore. But today proved that I can. Today reminded me that the heart never truly stops feeling, especially when the world loses someone as extraordinary as Butch McKay.
I want to begin by thanking Doug Bunnel for calling me personally to share the news. It was a call no one ever wants to make and one I never wanted to receive. The moment I heard Butch’s name, everything inside me collapsed. Because this wasn’t just another loss. This wasn’t another name added to the long list of people I’ve loved and buried. This was the man who saved my life. This was the man whose vision, compassion, and unwavering belief in the dignity of every human being shaped the course of my future. This was the man who gave hope to thousands across this nation.
Butch McKay was not simply a leader in the HIV/AIDS community — he was a force of nature. For more than forty years, he dedicated his life to serving people living with HIV and AIDS. His journey began with a promise he made to his partner who had passed away: a promise to keep helping others, to keep fighting, to keep loving. And Butch honored that promise every single day of his life. He never stopped. He never slowed down. He never turned away from someone in need.
As the founder of AIDS Okaloosa and the creator of the Positive Living Conference, Butch built something far greater than programs or events. He built a sanctuary. A lifeline. A place where people living with HIV could find education, empowerment, community, and hope. Last year marked the 27th year of the Positive Living Conference — a testament to his vision, his leadership, and his relentless commitment to uplifting others. Thousands of people from across the country have walked through those doors and left transformed. Many of them, like me, credit Butch with saving their lives.
What made Butch’s work even more remarkable was that he did all of this as a man who never contracted HIV himself. He didn’t serve out of obligation or personal experience — he served out of pure, unconditional love. He saw people who felt forgotten, ashamed, or alone, and he lifted them up with a tenderness that felt almost divine. He gave hope to the hopeless. He gave strength to the weary. He gave purpose to those who believed their purpose had ended.
I don’t think people fully understand the magnitude of this loss. The HIV/AIDS community has lost one of its greatest champions. Countless advocates, service providers, and community leaders across the nation are grieving today because Butch touched their lives in ways that cannot be measured. His ministry — and that is truly what it was — reshaped the landscape of HIV care and advocacy. His influence will continue to ripple through generations.
For me, this loss is deeply personal. In 2003, when I was at one of the lowest points of my life, Butch reached out his hand and pulled me back into the light. He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He saw value in me when I felt worthless. He gave me purpose when I had none. ColGay Pride and the Debra Smith Wellness Center exist today because Butch planted the seed of hope in me and nurtured it until it grew into something powerful. Everything I have built, every life I have touched, every moment of advocacy I have lived — all of it traces back to him.
As I write this, tears are streaming down my face, and I will not wipe them away. He deserves every one of them. He deserves every ounce of grief, every moment of remembrance, every candle lit in his honor. Butch was one in a billion. There will never be another like him. And though my heart is shattered, I am grateful beyond words that I had the privilege of knowing him, learning from him, and loving him.
In the coming days, I will be organizing a national candlelight memorial in his honor. I invite every community, every civic leader, every organization, and every individual touched by Butch’s work to join us. We will choose a coordinated date and time so that across this nation, we may stand together in unity and gratitude. Let us lift his name high. Let us honor his legacy. Let us show the world the impact one man can have when he chooses to love without limits.
Butch would be the first to say he was not a saint — but to thousands of us, he absolutely was. He reminded us that we were not alone. He gave us purpose. He gave us hope. And he taught us to pass that hope forward. His legacy is not just in the programs he built or the conferences he led. His legacy lives in the hearts of every person he touched. It lives in the communities he strengthened. It lives in the advocates he inspired. It lives in the lives he saved.
I pray that Butch is now reunited with the man he made that sacred promise to. I pray he feels the love pouring from every corner of this country today. And I pray he continues to guide our hands and our voices as we carry his work forward.
Today, we mourn a giant. Tomorrow, we continue his mission.
Rest in peace, my dear friend. Thank you for bringing us this far. We will keep going. We will keep loving. We will keep lifting others up — just as you taught us.
