Remembering the man under the hair

Perhaps you've never heard of August Doyle, but his hair was famous.

His story played out 50 years ago, which makes today a good day to remember the former airman at Cannon Air Force Base.

Doyle grew up in Crosby, Texas, about 25 miles east of Houston, where he graduated high school in 1967.

He enrolled at then-North Texas State University, but soon realized "I didn't know anything about college." He was working full-time and taking more than a full load of classes when he dropped out.

Right after that, Uncle Sam offered him a job.

"I got drafted," he said. "I didn't want to go in the Army, so I enlisted in the Air Force."

That was in 1968.

Doyle said he was sent to technical school in Colorado where he trained to be a camera repairman. When his training was complete, he picked up his assignment orders - but they were for a guy named Wayne Doyle.

"The lady that typed the orders made a mistake," August Doyle remembered. "She gave me a choice. She said I could take his or she would give me different orders. So I took his orders to New Mexico."

That was in 1969. August Doyle was glad he chose Cannon. He found out later that Wayne Doyle went to Vietnam.

August Doyle said his first month at Cannon was uneventful. Then he learned his afro-style haircut, which had not been an Air Force issue before, was to become a point of contention.

Doyle said 80 percent of the Black airmen at Cannon had afros similar to his. He'd started wearing it that way soon after high school, a natural style for him that didn't require artificial treatment.

He didn't consider it controversial, though he would say later it was an expression of his cultural identity, as it was for many African-Americans during the civil rights movement of the 1960s and '70s.

The Air Force said new regulations had determined that all airmen's hair would be no more than one-quarter inch in length on the sides and 1 1/2 inches in depth on top.

Court records show that on Oct. 23, 1969, Doyle and others met with a squadron commander who told them about "the importance of proper appearance and of the requirements of the Air Force Manual with respect to haircuts."

Doyle and two others discussed the new regulation with an officer after that meeting. One day later, Cannon's commanding officer issued a direct order to Doyle to cut his hair.

"You might as well take me ... to jail because I am not going to get a haircut," Doyle told his superior.

Doyle said he was the only Cannon airman who refused the order. It was a matter of principle.

"I believe it was about more than hair," he said last week in a telephone interview from his home in Dallas. "The commander said the afro was a bad hairstyle and I needed to conform. What was funny was they had pictures of how you were supposed to look and there was not one picture of a Black person."

As he awaited his court-martial, he said he was ostracized by everyone around him.

"I'd go eat in the chow hall and everybody would get up and go to another table," he said.

His court-martial lasted three days. He was found guilty of refusing to obey a direct order.

"When I got convicted, they woke me up at 2 a.m.," he said. "There was a guy standing over me with a shotgun. He said, 'Get dressed. We're going for a ride.' I woke up in Abilene, Texas."

Doyle, feeling combative at this point, announced he would not be working during his confinement at Dyess AFB.

"So they put me in solitary confinement for 30 days. On the 31st day, I was ready to go to work," he said.

"I thought I was going to be breaking rocks or something. They put me to work picking up paper on the base. If I'd known that's what I was going to do, I would have picked up paper that first day."

Doyle said he spent 60 days in Abilene and was returned to Cannon in February 1970.

On arrival, he learned haircut regulations had changed again, and he was now in compliance.

He never did cut his hair beyond regular trims.

But on his return to routine duties, he said he still felt ostracized. At one point, somebody called him a "dirty communist" because of his protest. He also felt superiors required him to do more work more often than other airmen.

He asked for a discharge. It was granted on July 10, 1970.

Doyle said he went back to school and earned an associate's degree. Years later, he earned a bachelor's degree.

He worked for Tom Thumb grocery stores for 20 years and became a manager.

He was a distributor for the Dallas Times Herald newspaper for a while and also became a code inspector for the city of Dallas.

He's found time for politics, running for Dallas City Council three times (all losses) and helping other political candidates whose causes he supported.

He's preparing to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary with wife Betty next year.

He retired 10 years ago.

At 71, he's thinking about writing a book, focusing on those few months at Cannon. His daughter, who writes plays for large churches, is also thinking about telling her dad's story.

Doyle believes he was mistreated all those years ago. Immediately after his court-martial, he told Jet magazine he had learned what it's like to "challenge the white-oriented system."

He still feels that way today.

"It left a bad taste," he said last week.

But he also believes he's been more fortunate than a lot of people.

During a visit to a veterans' hospital, he was struck by others' misfortune.

"I can still physically walk, talk and think for myself," he said. "I feel blessed I can still do those things."

And while he feels racial injustice still exists, he's been around long enough to appreciate how far we've come.

"I like the 2020s better than the 1950s," he said.

David Stevens writes about regional history for Clovis Media Inc. Contact him:

[email protected]