Butch McKay, a tenacious advocate in the fight against HIV/AIDS, whose benevolence changed lives, died peacefully in his sleep on Jan. 30 at his home in Panama City Beach, Florida. His heart, which bled for so many, finally gave out. He was 77.
The news was posted early Friday morning on Facebook. Tributes followed quickly — condolences and stories from people who understood how deeply his presence had mattered.
“A monumental loss to the HIV community and to all those who value kindness and hard work,” wrote Mark S. King, a longtime HIV activist and author of My Fabulous Disease. “His legacy is one of service, humility and endless Southern charm.”
McKay grew up in Fairfield, Alabama and graduated from Auburn University in 1971 with a degree in social work. He later settled in the Florida panhandle, where he became instrumental in establishing OASIS, an HIV/AIDS service organization focused on prevention, care and support.
“He’s the reason there is an OASIS,” said the organization’s director, Kurt Goodman. “His tireless advocacy for people living with HIV/AIDS and his gentle and kind spirit are his legacies.”
At OASIS, McKay created the ManReach program, recognizing the need for men of the rural South to connect in an environment that felt safe. Each year, he partnered with the Florida Department of Health and put together an annual retreat deep in the backwoods where men gathered around campfires and cabins sharing their experiences living with HIV/AIDS.
McKay’s reach extended far beyond the panhandle. He traveled to Africa on missions to deliver medical supplies and textbooks to families in rural Tanzania, was invited to the White House for the unveiling of the National HIV/AIDS Strategy and became a familiar presence at healthcare conferences across the country.
Michael Rajner, a human rights activist from Broward County, came to know McKay through the annual Positive Living Conference, hosted by OASIS, in Fort Walton Beach.
“Butch was amazing,” Rajner said. “He embraced everybody and met them where they were at in life. He was one of the kindest and loving individuals you would ever meet.”
Friends say that gentleness was central to McKay’s work. Through it, he could persuade the wary, reckless or abandoned to enter care and begin again.
“He never quit believing with every fiber of being that no one should be left behind, no one shamed, and no one forgotten. And Butch didn’t just believe it – he did something about it,” wrote Doug Landreth, a friend of 40 years.
In his own writings, McKay reflected on the complexity of his role as an HIV-negative man during the epidemic’s early years, when friends died quickly and caregiving was intimate and relentless. Those experiences led him to establish a buddy program at OASIS, pairing people not to fix one another, but to remain present.
“Often in caring for people,” McKay wrote. “I felt they were the ones caring for me more times than not. They taught me the meaning of unconditional love.”
Even late in life, McKay remained outspoken. When World AIDS Day was ignored by the Trump administration, he warned against “government ineptness and avoidance,” urging others to speak out for those who made the “ultimate sacrifices, many with their lives.”
Butch McKay believed that showing up mattered — and he did so relentlessly. For those who were seen by him, that attention was not incidental. It was life-altering.
Visit McKay’s memorial at EverLoved.com.
