(If you have questions for the author, Dewey Moody, about Mr. Scott please contact Dewey at ">deweymoody@hotmail.com )

Good morning. I’m Dewey Moody. Several months ago when Herschel realized the outlook for him was not good, he told me that his desire was for Claude McBride to lead his funeral and for me to speak. So, I’m honored to share a few memories of Herschel.

Herschel and I go back about 25 years. I first met him and his wife, Joanne, when I went to work at Walton Medical Center in 1976 where I served as Director of Public Relations and Volunteers for fifteen years.

Although Herschel was old enough to be my father, we became good friends. Not only did we have UGA football in common, but he was thrilled to learn that I was originally from Jesup and knew his God-daughter, Angie Anderson Croy.

After Joanne died, he was lonely and would join me in the hospital cafeteria for lunch just about every day. Although he was not one of my official hospital volunteer, many times I would call him if someone needed a ride home or for other needs, and he was always glad to help out. Herschel had a big heart, and he liked people.

Herschel was a very intelligent man. He ran a restaurant for many years. He had a keen business mind and could give great financial advice. He was also a great mechanic – servicing his own car and lawn mowers as long as he could. He was also politically savvy – always staying abreast of the latest topics and never hesitating to give his opinion. In addition, he absolutely loved poetry and could recite many great works from memory, including “Casey at the Bat”. He also had a great sense of humor. Many times he introduced me as his “son,” and then he would grin and say – the one I had before I married.

Herschel loved to share about his life experiences. Many times I heard him speak of his childhood in High Shoals. He can from a big family and money was tight. I remember his saying that lunch at school cost 3 cents in those days, but they didn’t have three cents so he took his lunch.

Herschel told that as a teenager in the 30’s, he rode his bicycle from High Shoals to Athens to see the bulldogs play. This began a life-long love affair with UGA football. Herschel knew Coach Wally Butts in the 40’s and 50’s and every head coach since that time. (Coach Dooley, we appreciate your being with us today for the funeral.) For many years Herschel was on the sideline during each game but later graduated to the stands. He said that many years ago when he went to the out-of-town games, he might be just one of a handful of Georgia fans there, and if they lost, he took it so hard that he would cry all the way back home. Other times after a loss, he would look around and ask, “Anyone got a dose of strychnine?”

For the past twenty years or so, Herschel rode with my wife and me to the out-of-town football games. This was an experience because over the years Herschel had developed “traditions” that he followed on these trips. We soon learned of such exotic places as Smitty’s Restaurant in Oxford, Mississippi; Dreamland Barbecue in Tuscaloosa, Alabama; and the Teepee in Cherokee, N.C., on the way to Tennessee game. He knew people and places all along the way to each out-of-town game and they expected him to come by when Georgia was playing there. And, at these out-of-town games, his favorite activity was to go over to the hotel where the team was staying to eat breakfast. This gave him the opportunity to speak to the coaches and fans mingling around.

Herschel loved children. Over the years I saw him give out thousands of quarters. He would see a child in a restaurant and asked their parents if he could speak to the child. He would call them over and say, “What are the magic words?” Many children would answer “please and thank you” and then he would gently coax them to say the real magic words “How Bout Them Dawgs”. He then presented them with a quarter and one of his Bulldog cards. He recently said that many of these children come up to him now as adults and tell him that they still have the quarter and the card.

Other times, he would ask children, and even grown adults, “Have you been sworn in? Hold up your right hand: Do you solemnly swear to always be a Georgia Bulldog and to defend it against all enemies – both foreign and domestic – especially against Georgia Tech, Clemson, Auburn, and Florida?” After the person said, “I do” Herschel would tell them that they were now a Georgia Bulldog for life and that only he could release them from this pledge.

In 1962, Herschel began his streak of consecutive UGA games, both home and away. That streak ended at 471 consecutive games when he saw the thrilling Georgia victory over Tennessee on Oct. 11. Little did we know on the way back home that it would be his last game. That was Herschel’s claim to fame. He was faithful to the dawgs. He was faithful through the good times and the bad times. He always said that he didn’t want to buried on a football weekend, so with Georgia off this weekend, he timed it just right. He was a great ambassador for UGA football. College football fans all across the country know Monroe, Ga., as the home of Mr. Bulldog.

Herschel also loved his family. He talked often of his brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces with joy but his greatest pride was his daughter, Janice, and his grandsons, Tim and Jeff. He loved you very much.

I am also happy to report that Herschel loved the Lord. Many times we talked about life, and he assured me that he knew God and that he prayed every night.

In closing let me share one other thing that Herschel was really proud of -- his bulldog tombstone. If you have not seen it, I encourage you to go to the cemetery sometime. It is done in red and black granite with a bulldog head on it. On Joanne’s side, it reads, “She was loved with a love that was more than love” from the poem Anabel Lee. On Herschel’s side, it simply reads, “Bulldog born, bulldog bred, here I lie a bulldog dead.” Across the bottom in big letters, it reads, “How Bout Them Dawgs” and has a place for Janice to fill in the number of games.

There will never be another Herschel. Of course, there will never be another of any of us; but when I say there will never be another Herschel, you know what I mean. He was unique!

May God comfort and strengthen his family, and may we all strive to keep his bulldog spirit alive in the years ahead. He truly was Mr. Bulldog.

Memorial contributions may be made to:

Herschel T. Scott UGA Football Scholarship Fund

c/o The National Bank of Walton County

131 East Washington St.

Monroe, GA 30655