Robert Ernest "Bobby" Poss III

The Remarkable Life of Robert E. “Bobby” Poss

Robert Ernest "Bobby" Poss III of Athens passed away on Friday, August 28, 2026, at the age of 78.

A memorial service will be held Friday, October 23, at 2:00 p.m., at Athens First United Methodist Church. A reception will follow the service in Hancock Hall at the church.

In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the Athens YMCA, 915 Hawthorne Ave., Athens, GA 30606 or the American Heart Association, P.O. Box 840692, Dallas, TX 75284.

Bernstein Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements.

In the early hours of Friday, August 28th, Athens lost a legend in the passing of Robert E. “Bobby” Poss. Not the momentary legends modern media throws around like confetti, but by definition, “a notable person whose deeds or exploits are much talked about in his or her own time.” The proof is the mention of his name in Athens, followed by an immediate smile and the inevitable questions, “Do you remember the time he…? Or do you remember the story about…?” He was, like his father before him, larger than life and an undeniable presence in Athens and University of Georgia culture.

That Bobby was one-of-a-kind is an understatement though in truth, the apple didn’t fall far from his daddy’s tree. Bobby was a larger-than-life character that Hollywood would have trouble imagining, a heavy southern accent sprinkled with Possisms that became the vernacular of his friends. If ever there is an indicator of the love and devotion of his friends, it is imitation and it was easy to find yourself talking like Bobby. “How ‘bout it Hot” became a universal greeting among his friends. He had the persona of a mid-20th century, bible-belt politician on the campaign trail without the ulterior motive of running for election. Bobby didn’t want to get elected to anything (though his close friends thought he would make a great mayor for Athens), he just wanted to be Bobby. He could talk to anyone from a homeless man for whom he bought a pair of shoes, to University Presidents with the same genuine interest and attention and we loved him all the more for it.

In many ways Bobby was a wonderfully flawed saint, given his kindness, generosity and love of his friends, but there was a touch of the devil in him. I can’t count the number of times I heard him say “I’m always in a jam” which he would lament with a laugh and shake his head. There’s no doubt he spent time in his younger days on Santa’s naughty list, but unquestionably Santa was grinning as he wrote it down, for there was not an ounce of malice in Bobby, only exuberance and a love of life that often pushed the envelope and occasionally tore it open. Without that part of him he simply wouldn’t have been the Bobby we loved so much. Not to mention that the stories that resulted were an integral part of who he was. We all make mistakes, but Bobby’s were somehow always infinitely funnier than ours. Thus the legend.

I spent thousands of hours over 50 years with Q. First as his roommate at McWhorter Hall. Our room was the first room on the 1st floor at the top of the front steps. Inevitably, after practice and before dinner, I would walk in our room and there would be four or five teammates sitting around laughing at Poss’ stories before the often-weary trek up to the third-floor dining hall. We even had a rocking chair Bobby had “borrowed” from the SAE house and dragged into the room at two o’clock in the morning. His ribald humor coupled with his ever-present upbeat and welcoming nature were the perfect prescription for a football team’s well-being. A hundred aggressive guys living in one dorm, sequestered from the rest of campus, he was born to be a team leader. His evangelical approach to humor and a love for Georgia football and his team that drew us all in. The locker room was his domain and there is a term used in team sports. Bobby was a “glue guy”, a teammate that by his actions on the field or, in Bobby’s case, his sheer weight of personality, binds a team together. Bobby was that in spades.

Three years later we lived together in “redneck paradise”, a single wide trailer with a big deck I built on the shores of the lake at Poss’s Lakeview. For those of you who know Bobby well, I can only smile and leave that to your imagination. Every weekend was spent at Lake Rabun, the place that Bobby loved perhaps more than any other place on earth. With a house full of audience to entertain and a 20-foot Century with a 383 Chrysler inboard, Bobby was in heaven. You could hear the rumble of that engine halfway down the lake and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who was coming, generally with a boat load of friends and no shortage of refreshments. The Poss family presence on that lake in those days was undeniable. The Poss barbecue empire was at its zenith and the family’s love of fun was legendary. Bobby took in his father’s “man in full” persona from an early age and ran with it, overseen by the impeccable grace of his mother Miss Betty.

It was apparent early in life that Bobby had a mind of his own. When he was younger his parents sent him to Athens Y camp up near the lake. Bobby didn't want to go. He wanted to go home and when the laundry truck came up from Athens, he hid in a laundry hamper covered with sheets and smuggled himself back to Athens, much to the consternation of his parents.

He and Bob Birchmore took a small boat, ran up to the end of the lake, took the engine off and dragged it up to the base of Lake Seed dam whereupon they rode the rapids down to Lake Rabun. Unfortunately, they put a hole in the boat and tried to get home by bailing, but couldn't quite make it, beached the boat and called for help. Mr. Poss was furious and told them never to do it again. They fixed the hole in the boat and of course, went right back up there and did it again and put another hole in the boat.

At a certain point they had a ski kite with the Poss logo emblazoned across a red kite. They would hook it up to the Century and Mr. Poss would pull Bobby flying high above the lake, a spectacular bit of advertising for Poss’ barbecue. One day the kite folded with Bobby high in the air, and he came crashing down into the lake. That night on the beach in front of his house, he ceremoniously burned the kite.

Bobby had an old wooden Chris craft with no windshield and flying tiger teeth painted on the front of it. He would put on an old Georgia football helmet with no face mask, come flying toward the dock at full speed, and at the last moment, shut down the throttle, spin the wheel and “swap ends”. It left him facing in the opposite direction at a dead stop and everybody on the dock running for their lives. It was classic Bobby. He was writing the stories that would follow him through his life and retold 1000 times.

Thirty years later the six of us began a tradition lasting these last 20 years. One weekend every summer, we gathered at Lake Rabun to relive those wonderful days, telling the same stories, listening to the same music, and once again letting Bobby hold court on his beloved lake. Now that we are old men, we no longer rumble down the lake in the long-gone Century, but putt-putt along in a pontoon boat, with Bobby still holding court, the ever-present towel around his neck, the inevitable Georgia gym shorts, and a light beer, replacing the Chivas of days long since gone. We sat in the shade of the canopy and asked Bobby to “tell us the one about”, some of them true, some of them lies, and many of them somewhere in between. The beauty of it was that Bobby loved telling them as much as we loved hearing them yet again, for Bobby was the master of the craft and like great whiskey and fine wine, they only got better with age.

With Bobby’s passing that’s gone now, but my sincere hope is that we go one more time. It won’t be the same, but it will give us one more chance to be as close to Bobby as we can get, and this time we will be the storytellers and Bobby will be there on Lake Rabun one more time.

I have a voicemail that he sent me last Christmas. My son Nick, who knew Bobby well, would send him a Christmas card with a picture of his family. Last Christmas we had the whole family together and my son's wife is rather spectacularly beautiful. Bobby was very complimentary of her as only Bobby could, finishing with “tell ol’ Nick he done good.” I played that for my family, and she was sitting there blushing like a 12-year-old. That voice was a big part of my life, and it will never leave my phone.

—Paul Fersen

“Bobby was the love of my life. His passing leaves such a big, big void. I'm hoping I can make it through. At night, the house is just so hollow. It's eerie. It's so quiet at night and in the mornings early when I get up, I was so used to helping him get up and getting his breakfast. He was good to me and my children and he was just always trying to help others too. That's what was so great about him.

The first time I met Bobby, I went to see my daughter, Lisa. She was a bar manager and I went there just checking on her and Bobby walked in. It was Christmas and he had on those red lizard boots, and a red coat. I thought, oh my gosh, he looks so cute. We were talking and he asked me to dinner. Eventually, he asked me to go out to the trailer. I said, no but then he started calling me to ask me out, and we started dating. In early spring, he asked me if I wanted to move in with him. So, I rented my house and moved out there.

I had come back to Athens in the 70s, I was a single mother with four children. I sold my house and came back home. I had known Bobby's family all of my life and I just loved his family because they just had so much fun and I had so much fun with Bobby. I had never really done that because I married early in life and had children. He respected his family, and was so respectful of my family too, because my father had worked hard and accomplished so much. We both had that in common.

When I met him, he was still partying, entertaining and living the life he loved as a storyteller, a friend to all and so generous. It was a new life for me and I did my best to keep up with him. When we got serious and we moved in together, we both got new jobs. I started at Burton & Burton as an artist, and he got a job with Northeast Sales. We soon got married. He was really entertaining even more, to the point that I finally learned to take my car to parties because I knew the stories would go on through the night. At a certain point I would say goodbye and go home because I had to get some sleep.

Of course, as you get older, you do slow down, but Bobby had also changed in other ways. I always knew that deep down in his heart that he loved the Lord but his faith grew stronger following his multiple heart attacks. He was always a good man but the transformation in these last few years have been amazing.

He was really sick last year and I've watched him go down. But he never stopped caring for me. I had lost a good deal of my eyesight and I couldn't go out with him as a result. He would plan our weekends, bring in the food. We would have a lot of fun watching the games–he would tell me what was happening and said he was my Larry Munson. He would tell me the plays and describe everything. So, I really looked forward to our weekends, and even these past months when he was so sick, he would say, “let's get something good for the weekend.”

Bobby just touched so many people. I knew he had a lot of friends and he was so good about calling them and checking on people. He kept a diary in his little devotional book about his friends, those he needed to visit and reflect on those he’d lost. He kept up with all of that in little things he wrote. He would go out of his way to be kind to somebody that needed help…and without being asked. It was just who Bobby was.

I will always love him.”

—Sandra Elizabeth Tuck Poss

“I met Bobby when I was 18 when I worked at George's place on Atlanta Highway and Bobby would bring the ‘Bulldogs’ recruits in. Eventually my boss bought Thomason's and Cleves and Thomas's became Bobby’s stomping ground because Ed Saye played there on Friday nights. Bobby and Ed were like brothers. On my 21st birthday, Bobby let me have my birthday party out at Lakeview, and we became fast friends. One afternoon, he came by the bar and was talking about finding somebody to date, and I said, “well, you just need to go out with mom” He eventually became mom's boyfriend, and they got married. I called him my ‘Bonus Dad.’ Bobby always took good care of all the staff, but when he started dating mother, the staff envied me because he would always sit in my section and give me the biggest tip. It meant so much to me.

Bobby and mother got married in 1992 and we slowly developed a deeper personal relationship. Not like a stepfather, but more like the father that was always there for me. It started with the planning of a big annual party for mom on 4th of July, we would plan the whole thing together. We always had the food service industry background in common but when I met my husband Bill and introduced him to Bobby, they immediately recognized each other realizing Bill worked at Lakeview while he was in high school. It was just like an instant family, just perfect.

In 2016, when Bobby had his cardiac arrest, things really changed. I became his caregiver. We used to always joke when I'd have to take him to the doctor and he tried to explain who I was. At first, I was his ‘stepdaughter’, which he didn’t like and then he would say ‘this is my daughter-in-law’, and I'd have to explain to him why I wasn't his daughter-in-law. Finally one day he asked, ‘can I just call you my daughter?’ I asked, ‘how about I call you dad?’ From then on, it was just a deep father-daughter bond that I really never had with my own father. I could call him for anything and he was always there to help. We would have long talks that I will always cherish about his life and about mine. It could be as simple as texting what I was doing and asking what he was doing. Those are the things that I'm going to miss the most, knowing I had someone to call and someone to lean on.

When my husband had his brain injury, it was during COVID, and they weren't letting anyone in the hospital. He got in that car and beat down those doors; just wanting to make sure that we were okay. He wanted to give me a hug. They still wouldn't let him come up, but I came down. He just wanted to say, I'm here. I love you and you know, I'm in your corner. I already miss him so much.

He worried me to death riding that bicycle; he had not ridden in a long time. The last time, it was probably 5 years ago, one Sunday after church. He had his route and I was working in the yard. I received two random phone calls from a number that I didn't know. I went back and checked my phone. There was a voicemail from a stranger telling me I just picked your dad up. He had a flat tire on his bike. We were calling to see if you could come pick him up, but don't worry, I'm going to take him home. I immediately went into daughter protective mode, ‘Oh no. Is he okay?’ A random person picked my dad up on the bypass. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ I asked. He was just laughing… having the best time. He told me, ‘we just talked, talked, and talked, and he brought me home’...’I took him out to the shed and gave him a case of light beer.’ They became fast friends. That’s the best thing about my dad. It didn’t matter where he went or who he met, they became fast friends.

These last six months have been really hard to watch. He went down so fast. On this last visit to the hospital, I thought they were going to take some fluid off his heart and we were going to come home, that everything was going to be okay.

I know he was a great part of my life, and if I could have him back today, I would. I will miss him terribly. He's been there for the birth of my son. He was there for me, more than my own family, was when my father died, and he was there for Bill when he lost his dad. In typical Bobby form, he was the first one at the back door, saying ‘Are y'all okay? Do you need anything? Give Bill a hug. It's going to be okay.’ He was just always there just like a father should be to a daughter. He would just call to just say, ‘I love you. I appreciate you.’ It was wonderful to experience that later in life. To have someone tell you ‘it's going to be okay,’ ‘you're going to get through it.’ I think mother brought some of that out in Bobby; she showed him another side of family and married life that he had not experienced before. Mom helped him reconnect with Lauren, his daughter, and his grandsons . Dad got to be a part of their lives for the last six years; he got to experience being a grandfather. I think we gave him a sense of family, a sense of home.

Beyond his family at home, we wanted to thank Bobby’s work family at Northeast Sales Distributing. Special thanks goes to Debbie Tiller, Jason Malcolm, the Sinkwich family and the rest of the team. Dad loved you and he was proud to be part of your success.

Finally my mother and I want to thank Athens Cardiology for being an extension of our family for the last decade. Dr. Ben Holland said to Bobby, ‘You're not a patient, you’re family. Call me whenever you need.’ And we knew Dr. Holland meant that. I had his cell number and had to call ‘many a night.’ He was a blessing for Bobby and all of us, all the way to the end. That commitment is a rare find today and it meant more than we can express.

In closing, I will say that Bobby Poss is forever in my heart. I miss him already.”

—Lisa Oneill

“Robert E. Poss was a rare mixture of many qualities. One of the things that I admired most about Bobby was his understanding of how important it was to always show his sincere southern hospitality and manners. He always returned phone calls. He always would call the host after attending an event to say thank you. Sometimes my Johnette would take meals over to their home, when Bobby was not doing well. And like clockwork the next day, Bobby would call to say how much they enjoyed the meal and just to say thank you.

Another quality that Bobby had was that he was absolutely a “creature of habit”. Bobby had to go workout every day. Just a couple of weeks before he passed, he was planning on going back to the Y and getting back into his routine. I think this lifelong commitment was the main reason he stayed with us as long as he did.

Another great quality that he had was his ability to have friends from all walks of life. We would kid him and say “Poss, everyone loves you, you should run for mayor “. He would remember dates and things that happened to friends and send them notes or small gifts, particularly at Christmas. He kept a thoughtful calendar of specific things to do for folks every year. Bobby Q had a big Ol’ heart.

Along these lines, he truly cared about people. He treated everyone like they were his best friend and everyone thought that he was Bobby’s best friend. A couple of weeks before he passed he called and needed the phone number of one of his older AHS football teammates that wasn’t doing well. He said he just wanted to call him and encourage him. He called him.

Another quality that I was able to see was how much he loved Sandra and how much she loved him. If we were having a men’s dinner, he would always want to take something home for Sandra. Bobby had a big heart. He helped a lot of folks but never talked about it. His constant thought of others was remarkable and admirable. He is already sorely missed. He was well loved and he loved well.”

—Alan Padgett

“Bobby Poss was one of my first sandpile, well-loved, that I can recollect. We have had many good times together and sometimes not so good. But all in all, if he needed any help, I was there for him, and he would be there for me. His hospitality and personality were outstanding, and everyone loved him.

Sometimes his memory would not pull up the names outstanding; that is why he would always call them HotDub, Good Buddy and such. But when I would give him a hint about the people or events, BANG, he would take off on a story or something about the person. We used to remind him about a story or a joke to tell and then he would take off. Bobby spoke at his brother-in-law's funeral at the Athens First United Methodist Church several years ago and I laughed so much that tears were pouring out. I was howling in the sanctuary.

The last year was very hard on the family and friends after his automobile accident in late July 2025. Too many days in the hospital and trying to rehabilitate with bad hospital food. Finally, it was time to let go.

We all are really going to miss our old good Buddy!!”

—Bob Birchmore

“After thinking about PO Sugar and the past 68 years of great experiences and friendship, it’s difficult to find the words to describe. The only word that captures our relationship is FRIEND! You can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends. Bobby picked me and I picked him. He was the best! He always had my back and I had his. What more can I say, but thanks Robert Ernest Poss, III., for the memories. Rest in peace and we will see you in Heaven. We know where he is. Bless you and family.”

—Larry and Pam Benson

“I did not realize just how special this last year would be. This last year was a hard one for Bobby and Me, but I will treasure all the precious one-on-one times we had. He kept a smile even after hearing the end was near, and God bless my precious Brother. I have no doubt where you are now and I love you.”

—Peggy Sue Williams

“I’ve known Bobby for over 70 years. Starting in David C. Barrow Elementary School then Clarke County Middle School and Athens High School and I would say he would be THE most memorable individual I have ever met. No one could tell a story (regardless of how true and accurate it might be) better than Bobby. And if you met someone that had spent any time in Athens…most times they would relate having met Bobby and ask about him.

He had a heart of gold and never met a stranger. With a personality bigger than life itself, he would light up any room he entered, and everyone knew he had arrived. I always looked forward to Valentine's Day and his sweet phone call to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day. He will be missed but many of his stories will be remembered and retold for years to come.”

—Jane Begnaud

“Bobby Poss, a friend to so many, passed away recently after an extended illness. Bobby had a larger-than-life personality who could bring laughter in times of grief but followed with a big hug of compassion. Bobby played center for the Bulldogs and kept his teammates upbeat with all of his antics. When Bobby was called on to speak at Bulldog Club events, you never knew what he was going to say or what he was going to wear! Sometimes he would stay on point, but not always. A good friend to so many and always giving to those in need. His passing leaves all of us without his big slice of humor and a heart full of love and kindness. Our sympathy to his family and friends.”

—Gilbert Milner

“Bobby Poss was a great friend to so many of us that it is hard to grasp. He will not be here to tell (and retell) his stories and jokes. He was so famous for his nicknaming of others, I'll share a personal story between Bobby and me.

In 1952, I contracted Polio and was hospitalized in Grady Hospital for months. According to Bobby's legendary telling and retelling of my struggles with Polio, I spent 2 years in an iron lung (actually closer to 2 months). But never mind the truth or tale, it was Bobby's story. The story grows and now includes a birthday party which he attended and I caught Polio. He claims to never, ever eaten vanilla ice cream again in his life after that party. After I returned home to Athens, he started calling me The Polio Kid. I returned the favor and called him Q for his family's world famous Poss's Barbeque. Good and faithful God, thank You for sharing Bobby all these many years with us.”

—Butch Bush

“I can’t decide what my favorite story was. Maybe the time we were playing Nebraska in the Sun Bowl and getting trounced so badly that Bobby had given up on any chance of scoring and discarded his helmet. Near the end of the game, Georgia recovered a fumble and scored an improbable touchdown. Poss had to run out on the field and snap for the extra point.

Nebraska’s behemoth All American noseguard was lined up over center and Bobby, again, according to Bobby, told him, “OK, Hot—y’all got this one wrapped up. Let’s take it easy on this play.

His plea didn’t work. The Cornhusker player hit him so hard he crashed back into the Georgia holder and Bobby said he “woke up looking at the sky through the earhole of the borrowed helmet.”

—Darrell Huckaby

“I was talking with Bobby one day and I asked him, “you know I really like your presentation style on the radio ads that you’re doing and I think you would be really great at doing some commercials for Aaron Bonding Company.” He laughed and he said, “I’d love to give it a try” so I bought some studio time. Gilbert Milner and Bobby wrote the script for my first Ads and they were hilarious. I can still hear Bobby right now. “This ain’t no Five Star Hotel you need to call your new best friend Aaron Bonding Company right now !!!!”

Gilbert and he wrote the first ones, the rest Bobby did by himself, and he put his own special touch.

“You know this ain’t no Five Star Hotel “and things like that I mean, they were just hilarious and unforgettable. one day. I said to him after he started doing these for me, “Bobby, how much how much do I owe you?” He said, “ I don’t want any money for this.” I said, “Bobby you gotta let me pay you for it. He said, “no. I just enjoyed doing it.” I think he would’ve paid me to do them because he loved being on the air, but he wouldn't take any money… so each year I would buy him a gift. One year I bought him a green egg table for his green egg GRILLE and green egg. I tell you, I love Bobby.

I hate that he’s gone. He was in my Sunday school class leading the singing. I saw him every Sunday so yeah, it’s especially sad for me not seeing him anymore.”

—John Elliott

“Bobby and I have been friends for over 50 years. My wife and I had our wedding reception at Poss’ Lakeview in 1978. A few months later Bobby invited us for a honeymoon trip to New Orleans for the LSU/Georgia game. We traveled by limousine to and from the game with B and Stuart Satterfield. Throughout the years Bobby and I have shared some great memories. From the days at Lake Rabun, trips to Atlanta night clubs, and a lot of away games. One game at Auburn we won the SEC championship. We were walking out of the stadium and an Auburn fan kept using some foul language. Bobby confronted the guy in no uncertain terms and shut him up. All the Auburn fans around us were cheering for Bobby and we just kept on walking.

There are so many stories we could share about Bobby, the stories that kept us laughing for hours. He truly cared about his friends and would keep a check on all of them just to make sure they were doing okay. He will be missed by all of us who knew him and shared time with him......we love you, Bobby.”

—Wayne Dean

“Bobby became a good friend after he had a cardiac arrest on Christmas Eve 2019. My two daughters who are physicians were driving by and saw a person in distress, down on the sidewalk with a crowd of people standing around. They stopped to offer help. They were instrumental in his resuscitation. He called them his angels. He told this story many times as the centerpiece of his faith story.

After recovering from his heart attack, Bobby did well for several years. But, these last few years of life became a struggle with worsening heart failure, injuries from a car wreck, pacemakers and the subsequent troublesome effects on his overall health. He was in and out of the hospital many times.

Through all this he maintained his sense of humor, his work, his workout routine and his connection with his friends. I witnessed his courageous effort to stay active, without complaining, his grace and his positive attitude. I learned from Bobby how to handle adversity with grace while facing death.”

—Mixon Robinson