One day before turning 100, Lt. Archie McKay walked into the City of Miami Historic Black Police Precinct and Courthouse Museum to the sound of applause, cheers, and the rhythms of Booker T. Washington Senior High School’s band — his alma mater.
For the World War II veteran and one of the last surviving officers of Miami’s historic “Negro-Only” Precinct, the centennial celebration on Friday, Nov. 14, was more than a birthday. It was a community’s tribute to a man whose life has traced nearly the entire arc of Black Miami’s struggle for dignity, justice, and belonging.
“I just feel very blessed because I know that you don’t get to be 100 without God,” said Carolyn McKay, Archie’s oldest daughter. “I’m just thankful that I’ve always had a dad in my life. He’s been a good dad, a great provider, and a great protector.”
The event also launched the museum’s 2025–2026 “We Too Sing America” fundraising campaign, dedicated to uplifting Black stories as the nation approaches its 250th anniversary.
“Through the life of Lt. Archie McKay, we hear the steady drumbeat of a people who have always loved, defended, and improved this country — even when it refused to love them back,” said Museum Director Terrance Cribbs-Lorrant.
A life rooted in service
Born Nov. 15, 1925, McKay grew up in segregated Miami, where Black officers could not arrest white residents, enter the police academy, or work outside Black neighborhoods. He graduated from Booker T. Washington Senior High School in 1948, but his service began much earlier: five days after his 18th birthday, when he was drafted into the U.S. Army on Feb. 2, 1944.
After completing engineering training at Camp Claiborne, Louisiana, he was deployed to France, scouting terrain.
“The only time I was frightened was when those German bombs were flying over,” McKay recalled.
Later deployed to Okinawa, he helped build a U.S. Air Force base. He eventually transitioned into the Air Force and then the Air Force Reserve, returning to Miami as a decorated veteran before beginning the policing career that would place him at the center of local history.
Breaking barriers, preserving history
McKay joined the Miami Police Department in 1954 on a dare. Today, he says it’s one of the most memorable experiences he’s had.
“A good friend said, ‘Let’s go sign up.’ I told him, ‘No, man, I’m not doing that,’” McKay recalled. “Then he told me, ‘You chicken.’ And I said, ‘Nobody calls me chicken.’ So I took the test, and got hired.”
At the time, Black officers were restricted to patrolling Black neighborhoods exclusively. They handled traffic violations and civil disputes; evidence in criminal cases was often ignored, and cases frequently went unsolved. Their station, built in 1950, housed a municipal court where Black defendants were tried before a Black judge.
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Within these constraints, McKay rose. He became Miami’s first Black detective — though his white colleagues refused to acknowledge the title — earning respect for solving cases and building trust in overlooked communities.
“He went far and beyond just law enforcement,” Carolyn McKay said. “He worked with young people, encouraged them to stay in school and really not get involved in that cycle of crime.”
In 1971, McKay and eight other officers sued the City of Miami over discriminatory promotion practices. The U.S. Justice Department intervened, and McKay was promoted to sergeant — a landmark victory that opened doors for future generations. He served more than 20 years, retired as a sergeant, and was later recognized as an honorary lieutenant.
“I've had great experience in each service I’ve been in,” McKay said. “In the Army, in the Air Force, and in the police department — outstanding.”
After retiring, McKay helped transform the abandoned precinct into the museum it is today.
“They fought diligently,” said Cribbs-Lorrant. “Lieutenant McKay and Lieutenant Otis Davis were part of the team that pushed commissioners to preserve this building. In 2008, it opened as a museum — because they refused to let this history disappear.”
McKay served on the museum’s board, advocated for preservation, and volunteered well into his mid-90s, often driving himself to give tours.
“He is the epitome of what we want to see in our community,” Cribbs-Lorrant said. “He volunteered here all the way up to COVID, driving himself, dropping off his grandkids, then coming in to work six to eight hours.”
During Cribbs-Lorrant’s hiring process, McKay gave him a charge that still guides the museum director today.
“He made me vow that we would elevate the stories of Black officers not just here, but across the county. He wanted the next generation to know who came before them.”
Family reflections
McKay’s children and grandchildren describe him as a quiet force, a man who taught by example and never forgot the sacrifices of his era. At a family reunion at Stone Mountain, Georgia, McKay insisted on climbing the mountain — a place he had once been barred from during military service.
“When he got to the top, we understood why he did it with such zeal,” Carolyn McKay said. “This was an accomplishment he’d been denied, and now he was free.”
McKay’s granddaughter Anise Wooten recalled how he was still driving her to school at age 95.
“He was taking me to school, picking me up when he was 95-96, and that was just like the norm to me, until obviously I grew up and I was like, ‘Wow, this is really amazing to have,’” she said.
Anise remembers Friday family dinners, where McKay cooked for everyone. She says he always made a special plate for her picky tastes.
Another granddaughter, Ellie Martinez, shared a small but lasting moment: sitting beside him as he held a golden crown awarded by a club that honored him.
For niece Stephanie McKay, her uncle’s influence lives in lessons passed down.
“He taught me to give people respect,” she said. “He’s a great person. A very great man.”
Celebrating a century
For McKay’s family, Friday’s celebration underscored a truth: elders like him carry stories Miami cannot afford to lose.
“I think that we can learn so much from them,” Carolyn said. “When you know your history, you also know your future.”
Proceeds from the event will support the museum’s efforts to collect oral histories, build a virtual archive of retired officers, and create new educational exhibits. The museum is also participating in Give Miami Day.
“We have a responsibility to protect and preserve these stories — stories of service, sacrifice, and leadership,” said Cribbs-Lorrant.
The ceremony featured musical performances, tributes, and reflections from civic leaders, culminating in a salute by Booker T. Washington’s band, who performed its school song and the historic “Tornado Flight.”
When asked how he hopes to be remembered, McKay paused, then spoke softly.
“My legacy will be like this,” he said. “Watching my high school serenade. I’ll remember that the rest of my life.”
Cribbs-Lorrant closed with one of McKay’s favorite hymns: “If I can help somebody as I travel along, then my living will not have been in vain.”
“That is his life’s message,” he said. “And because of him, none of us will forget the history that built this city.”
