He doesn’t remember his real name. He doesn’t remember his date of birth. He doesn’t remember his high school.

The man who now goes by Benjaman Kyle does not remember much about the past 50 or 60 years.

But Kyle, who lives in southern Georgia, does remember Indianapolis.

In August 2004, Kyle was found sunburned, unconscious and naked outside a Burger King in a suburb of Savannah. He had no wallet and was covered with fire ant bites and blinded by cataracts. Reports suggested he had been hit over the head.

Over the next few months, Kyle’s health and eyesight — thanks to donated surgery — were restored. But not his memory.

To this day, Kyle, who is thought to be in his late 50s to early 60s, has only a fleeting acquaintance with his personal history. He’s sure he grew up in Indianapolis, thinks he went to Catholic school and has a keen memory of Downtown.

At some point, he thinks, he moved to the Denver area and was involved in the restaurant industry. Other than that, he draws a blank when his mind tries to conjure his past.

“This is hard to talk about, because I know who I am,” Kyle said in a recent telephone interview. “I’m me . . . I really don’t feel part of me is missing.”

The U.S. government disagrees, however, and therein lies the problem. Without proper identification, Kyle can’t be issued a Social Security number. He can’t work legally, and he isn’t eligible for Medicare; he doesn’t know his age.

So Kyle is on a quest to discover who he was.

The FBI has not found his fingerprints in any database. Kyle has been polygraphed and hypnotized, said FBI agent Bill Kirkconnell, who’s based in Savannah.

Kyle’s face has been posted on missing persons boards. Last fall, his story was featured on “Dr. Phil.”

None of the leads that resulted has panned out.

“We’ve done everything we can,” Kirkconnell said. “We’re just waiting for that lucky break.”

Forensic genealogist Colleen Fitzpatrick is comparing Kyle’s DNA with samples in a number of genealogy databases. Nothing close has cropped up.

Even if there is a genetic match, Kyle or his father could have been adopted or sired by a man not married to their mother, further complicating identification, said Fitzpatrick, co-founder of IdentiFinders, a California company that does genetic genealogy detecting.

Kyle has spent hours on the Internet, looking for something to jolt his memory.

Believing that he attended Catholic school here, he’s viewed all the churches on the Web site of the Archdiocese of Indianapolis. He’s looked at pictures of local libraries, but because so many branches are new, he recognized nothing.

Still, his brain retains pictures of Indianapolis.

He remembers the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, the Woolworth’s on the Circle, the Indiana Theater, which he recalled showed movies in Cinerama. He remembers Crown Hill Cemetery, though not its name; the Scottish Rite Cathedral; and the White River when “it was mostly just a dumping ground.”

Later memories put Kyle in Denver, probably at some point in the 1970s. Kyle, who says he always had glasses and a mustache, also has a keen knowledge of restaurant design and equipment. He enjoys reading restaurant trade magazines.

The culinary highlight in Indianapolis for Kyle: the grilled cheese sandwiches for a quarter and glasses of milk for a nickel at the Indiana State Fair.

Kyle also recalled the former Burger Chef headquarters and the fact that SaniServ, a restaurant equipment company, was a subsidiary of Burger Chef.

For the past four years, Kyle has lived in the present.

After he was found, he spent months in the hospital and then moved to a respite center for the homeless in Savannah.

Katherine Slater, then a nurse at the center, befriended him and offered to let him live with her in exchange for help with home repairs. Slater also got involved with his case.

Kyle wants a Social Security number, but he’s not sure he wants all his memories back.

“There’s always the fear of the unknown,” he said. “If all of this comes back, somehow I am going to have to take all these memories that come back and merge them into what I have been for the last four years.”