When my husband and I decided to take a short get-a-way-weekend to the historical town of Savannah Georgia for our 1st Anniversary, we fully expected to be charmed by Southern Hospitality, the beauty of the architecture, stately gardens, statues and fountains in all the historic squares. We expected fine restaurants, fascinating history, museums and art galleries and also planned to drive to near-by Tybee Island and climb the Lighthouse and eat some crab. What we didn’t expect, was that in a little local tavern, our curiosity would draw us in, because of the stories surrounding a local musician about which we’d heard played there, Wed thru Sat night, every week and had been there since her 90th birthday!
Now nearly 99, Miss Sylvia is a beloved Tybee Island and Docks Tavern icon. She arrives promptly by 8:30 pm, having ridden to work, on her vivid blue, electric scooter, which she covers with a tarp in case of rain. She enters and pulls her fingers through still thick curly hair, thoroughly white but without a touch of gray, fluffs and takes ‘her’ table by the stage. She is dressed stylishly in a leopard skin designer jacket, simple black slacks and sits down unceremoniously as an automatic response, at her own personal table, already in the midst of applying touch up lipstick and putting on gorgeous bangle amber earrings. It is obvious she is comfortable and very much at home at Doc’s Dog House. The table that sits just left of the front door, which is sacrosanct, and from which the waitress has just ‘run off’ the unknowing tourists, who had made the mistake of sitting there is her domain. The unwitting customers were informed by the authoritative bar-keep, in a no-nonsense way; that they have to leave Miss Sylvia’s table, as she would be arriving with-in the half hour. There is no doubt that the establishment staff is reverent and respectful as they speak her name and expect her arrival as a given. The feeling is strong and palpable just anticipating her arrival that evening, because it is obvious she is the heart and soul of this community tavern and the highpoint of each evening when she plays, it is a cherished event for all that have come. As she sits and settles there are waves and welcoming smiles from every corner of the room. Several people wander over to her table to pay homage, and she discusses everything cheerfully, with wit and a sharp acuity. Sylvia Gott doesn’t miss a beat, whether playing, visiting or doing both at the same time.
I observe from my husband’s and my table, half a bar away, and I am impressed even from this distance. Sylvia looks ‘70 something’, certainly not nearly a century old. And she’s a very sharp ‘Centurion’ to say the least. I found myself admiring her attitude and posture, and the easy way she graciously greeted everyone as they approached her or joined her at her table. Finally my wanting to meet her became so strong, I asked the waitress how she felt about strangers approaching her, and she assured me I’d be quite welcome and encouraged me to ‘go head on over’. My more reserved husband stayed at our table, but not for long as I was soon dragging him over too, after Sylvia and I had chatted a while, because I just didn’t want him to miss meeting such a wonderful woman. By then Sylvia had out her Album and was sharing life long pictures, from her birth in 1909, to a four year old Sylvia in 1913, to her father’s Big Band pictures, with her mother playing too, and a 12 year old Sylvia with a trumpet. She spoke casually of the Dorsey brothers, and moving on to percussion as a drummer, in her husbands and her own big band on Miami Beach in the 20’s through the 50’s. She told us about moving from NY at 9 in 1918, and that her father was taking them down the east coast in a motor yacht to move to Florida, when the boat sank! And they barely made it ashore in the small dory. Sylvia showed us pictures too, of the two husbands that she’d outlived, and the son who died in Viet Nam and was decorated, also the son that made it back and now lives in Florida and her daughter, about 80 who still worked and lived close-by on Tybee Island.
The extremely notable thing about Sylvia Gott was an obvious joy and inner peace, and a still mischievous nature. She never uttered a complaint, had looked at all of life’s difficulties ‘matter of factly’ and then found their blessings. She loved music and it showed as she spoke of playing the piano, a trumpet or any percussion instrument. She was tickled as she showed the photos of her 90th birthday, where she was surrounded by young stripping, local fireman at her party in the tavern. Sylvia seemed a woman with a wonderful take on life, happy in her own skin, memories and surroundings and as she kept the beat with her Maracas while never missing anything in a conversation, I was very glad to have met such an unforgettable character.
Although I only spoke with her about 20 minutes and watched her play only two sets, this wonderful woman inspired me and I will remember her forever. So if you are ever on Tybee Island, Georgia, give yourself a treat and go say “Hello” to Miss Sylvia, you’ll be both impressed and inspired.
