In 2003, I contracted HIV by means of unsafe sex. Though I spent much time, over the following three years, feeling quite ill, the doctors in NC seemed to be baffled by my progressively failing health. It wasn’t until December of 2005 that I was finally diagnosed, by means of a mail-in anonymous testing kit. By then I had lost 40 pounds and could barely walk.

By the time my stepfather and my brother arrived in Wilmington to bring me back to Tyler, Texas, no one thought I would survive much longer. I left behind almost all my possessions and my beloved bar, The Rusty Nail.

I was placed under the care of an HIV specialist, Dr. Borucki, of UTHC, and gradually, my health improved.

Even then, there were “glitches” in the system. At times, I was denied health care, and at other times, I have seen gross mistreatment of those in both the GLBT and the HIV communities (and there is considerable overlap).

I am grateful to Tyler and Jamieson Clinic and especially to Dr Borucki… yet I find myself living in a paradoxical world that demonstrates the best and the worst of human care and compassion.

East Texas is a paradox… that includes some of the most draconian and hateful mores in the country, while playing host to some of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met.

This site is dedicated to all those who have gone before us, and all those yet to come… but mostly, it’s dedicated to us… you and me… here and now. Let’s celebrate the fact that we’ve made it this far, and stick together in the hopes that we can make a difference for ourselves and for others.

Peace and love, Troy Carlyle

Moving to East Texas

If you want to know all about me, & why I believe so strongly in human rights and treating people with love and compassion, the best place to look is my book, which explores all of these topics more thoroughly. But if you just want a quick rundown, here goes:

I grew up in Dodge City Kansas, where I was a “Charlie Brown” kind-of kid. I took up the violin & once I got to high school, I joined the debate team. I was smart, though, and set my sights on the Air Force Academy.

I received a Congressional nomination to the Air Force Academy from Kansas Congressman Keith Sebelius in 1980.

I struggled at the Academy with academics. I kept my sense of humor, however. In 1982, I resigned my position as leader of the intercollegiate cadet debate team to make a movie—a “James Bond” comedy that made fun of cadet life. “Beyond the Chapel Wall” was the first (and to my knowledge only) cadet production of its kind— and became an instant “cult classic” within the tiny and tightly knit USAFA community.

After graduating, I became a navigator on C-130 cargo planes, and traveled extensively throughout Europe, Turkey and Central America. My nickname was “Magellan,” which I thought was pretty cool. I would travel with a footlocker of travel guides to make the most of our short layovers in famous cities and remote locations. No matter where we went, I could be counted on as the guy who knew where to go.

Eventually, I was asked to join an elite unit whose mission was so classified (TS, SCI); I’m not even allowed to talk about it now (though I will say it had to do with the space program). :-)

I taught film & video at the Art Institute of Houston for a few years, then started an advertising agency back in North Carolina… but life didn’t really start up again for me until 2000, when I bought one of the oldest neighborhood bars in the coastal town of Wilmington, NC and converted it to a blues bar.

The Rusty Nail at Beatty’s Tavern was my life. I sank my whole spirit into it, and we had many exciting adventures over the following six years, including some great national press (National Geographic Traveler, Sept 2005). We were an integral part of the Cape Fear Blues Society and their annual Blues Festival, and were the only bar to have a float in the Azalea Parade.

I also honed up on my “fiddle-playing” skills, & occasionally got up on stage to jam with the bands.

The Rusty Nail was all about the music, and many new bands cut their teeth at our humble little establishment.

I struggled with my sexuality, however, hoping against hope that my “gay” feelings would just go away. When I was 29, I finally figured out that I was gay, and that it was time I learned to accept it. I needed someone to talk to, and took a huge risk by confessing to a friend of mine, who was a pilot.

Well, he ended up “confessing,” too, and it felt good to have someone to talk to, though we never had an intimate relationship with each other.

He did have an intimate relationship with another guy, however, but unfortunately for both of us, this “other guy” turned out to be a “fatal attraction.”

So when my friend tried to break up with him, this guy decided to turn us both into the AF Office of Special Investigations (OSI) as “homosexuals.”

Our subsequent court-martials were a national sensation—with articles in the New York Times and even an episode of NBC’s “Dateline.”

Though the “prosecution” argued strongly for nine years in prison, the jury in my trial settled for a “dishonorable discharge.” That was in 1993, and thus ended my nine-year Air Force career.

Growing Up

The Court Martial

The Blues Bar

The Young Officer

About Me

Troy Carlyle holds a BS from the Air Force Academy and is the recipient of two Air Medals for “outstanding airmanship and courage while successfully accomplishing, under extremely hazardous conditions, highly sensitive Joint Chiefs of Staff-directed missions vital to the interests of the United States.” He is an active member of Mensa, PFLAG, the Human Rights Campaign, and the American Civil Liberties Union -- and serves on the Board of Directors for the Community Health Clinics of Northeast Texas. He is the author of the book, “The Remainder of My Life: an autobiography written in real time” (Lulu Press, lulu.com).

At age 7, in the 3rd Grade, circa 1968.

A photo taken in Feb, 2006, with a picture in the background showing my appearance before being diagnosed. It took several months after commencing treatment before my “facial wasting” cleared up.

Me with my best friend, “Zoe.” Zoe traveled with me from North Carolina, and I credit her with saving my life. This is how I look today.

A C-130 performs a “low altitude parachute extraction,” or “LAPES.”

Having a good time at the Rusty Nail, circa 2002, with my business partner, Sandy.

Military's Zeal Decried in Sodomy Case

June 21, 1993, Monday

By ERIC SCHMITT, (Special to The New York Times); National Desk

Late Edition - Final, Section A, Page 15, Column 1, 1221 words

In a case that has drawn little public notice but has sent ripples through the Air Force hierarchy, an officer has been convicted of sodomy and another faces similar charges based solely on a gay civilian man's claim that they had sex with him. The two officers, members of .an elite transportation unit here...