At Sonny Seiler’s 90th birthday celebration back in February at the Oglethorpe Club there was the ultimate social.
His trio of doting daughters – Swann, Bess, and Sarah – and brother Charles made sure the guest list included exactly whom Sonny wanted to show up; and to remind him that even though he was getting long in the tooth, he still had a lot of good days left. They wanted him to know there would be another sojourn between the hedges, more opportunity to fish the Intracoastal Waterway of Savannah, another ride over Johnny Mercer’s Moon River bridge, another day at his Tybee beach house, another night at the Uga suite at the Georgia Center, another road game to Jacksonville and God-willing, another unforgettable outing in the College Football Playoffs.
None of us considered that he had seen his last Georgia football game – but sadly, that’s what happened. Sonny passed away on Aug. 28th.
Sonny’s memory banks were chock full of keepsakes that made him, along with his late wife, Cecelia, often the toast of the state and the university, ever since a wedding gift in 1956 led to the Uga (pronounced “Uh-gah”) mascot dynasty that brought such glory to old Georgia.
A certain amount of celebrity came with being the caretaker of the Uga bulldog lineage, but it was a far greater responsibility than most fans realized. The day-to-day maintenance and chores could be managed only with a lot of tender-loving care, and the Seilers offered that in abundance.
A graduate of UGA Law School, Sonny became the quintessential Uga historian, manager, and friend with the aiding and abetting of Cecilia and the children to whom the reigning Uga was always the family pet.
Sonny was an athlete who swam for the accomplished Bump Gabrielsen at UGA. (He once swam the river from Savannah to Tybee.) Before that, he played basketball at Newberry. Friends kidded him about guarding Furman’s legendary Frank Selvy when Selvy scored 100 points against the Wolves in 1954. That was not exactly accurate, but it became great conversational fodder among his close friends.
An accomplished practical joker, Sonny was imbued with a quality that few of that ilk have. He could dish it out, but he could take it, too. If the joke was on him, he laughed the loudest and then schemed to get you back.
In the courtroom, Sonny was as competitive as any lawyer. His big moment centered around a murder trial involving an antique dealer and a paramour that led to the book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which later became a movie produced and directed by Clint Eastwood, in which Sonny played the part of a judge.
If you knew him, you likely would agree it would be difficult to determine which city Sonny enjoyed or loved more – his native Savannah or adopted Athens.
He never wanted to live anywhere but Savannah, but always gloried in any sojourn to the Classic City. For sure, he loved his hometown, and like so many Bulldog aficionados, he held equal affection for his favorite institution.
You saw that fire-engine-red Chevrolet station wagon parked at the Georgia Center, cruising about town and parked at places such as the bookstore and Sanford Stadium. It always attracted a crowd, even in the hinterlands as the Seiler family journeyed to Athens – places like Louisville, Soperton, Vidalia, Wrightsville, Tennille, Sandersville, and Sparta, depending on the route Sonny took to home-game weekends.
Kids adored Uga. They would knock on the door of the Seiler homes in Savannah and ask to take Uga for a walk. They engulfed him at the Georgia Center on the weekends and considered it the ultimate privilege to walk the grounds with Uga under the giant pecan trees that line the property.
I will always be indebted to the Seilers for naming two of the Ugas for me and hold dear those many unforgettable times I fished with Uga on Sonny’s boat, “Silver Britches.” Sonny was an expert fisherman and knew the rivers and marshes around Savannah like the back of his hand.
We would catch trout and bass, then bring them to Sonny’s dock at his home on Dutch Island. Sonny would clean them, something at which he was skillful, and Cecelia would cook them with an expertise that would turn the heads of seasoned New Orleans chefs.
Sonny was well-read, he enjoyed playing golf at the Savannah Golf Club, which he would tell you was the oldest in the country, and never tired of hosting Uga in the St. Patrick’s Day parade.
The chapel bell ringing, a Budweiser in the Uga suite with his closest friends, a hamburger at Allen’s, any milestone or significant tribute that came to Savannah or UGA, gave Sonny Seiler the greatest of highs.
The Uga dynasty has been great for UGA, and it took a special family to help bring that about. Sorrowfully, we lost Cecilia in 2014 and now we have lost the patriarch.
Long live the Ugas.