Issue link: http://maconmagazine.uberflip.com/i/1538147
I f you search Facebook this week, you'll find a flood of tributes and photos celebrating Mike Seekins, known lovingly around Macon as "Famous Mike." The outpouring of memories tells the story better than any headline: Mike didn't just run a restaurant. He created a place where people came to gather, to be fed, and to feel at home. Where did the name Famous Mike come from? Yes, he owned Famous Mike's Restaurant. But fame, in Mike's case, had nothing to do with celebrity. It might have started with the cinnamon buns, the grits, the biscuits, or the famously crispy bacon, but it was really about how those great meals were served – with warmth, joy, and a heart that welcomed everyone. He offered many of our Daybreak friends jobs to help them get off the streets. Mike was a cornerstone of the Daybreak community, showing up with steady support and enthusiasm year a er year. At Macon's annual Sleepout for the Homeless, folks would brave the cold knowing that a "Famous Mike's breakfast" awaited them in the morning with eggs, grits, bacon, and heart. His generosity wasn't confined to the kitchen. Mike had a talent for rallying people around a good cause. One year, he showed up to the Skydog Music Festival, grill in tow, selling hotdogs under the name "Famous Mike's Skydogs." Every dollar went to support Daybreak and the Skydog Music Festival. It became an annual tradition, part tailgate, part fundraiser, all that legacy. The packed restaurant grew quiet as his old friends "held court," sharing stories from every corner of Mike's multifaceted life. His AKO brothers, Stratford Academy classmates, fellow stagehands, GABBA family, restaurant regulars, and longtime friends and family admitted it felt like a reunion – a reunion centered on honoring a man whose love was contagious and made us all brothers and sisters. They told stories of how Mike allegedly started the Tomahawk Chop. About how he'd grill chicken for rival fans at Braves and Georgia games. "Befriend the enemy," he'd say, then explain that befriending the enemy somehow always brought his team a "win." A visit to his restaurant wasn't just about the food. It was a dose of dopamine. A reconnection. A perfect start to the day. Mike's legacy lives on in every life he touched, every excellent meal he served with kindness, and every room he lit up simply by walking in. So as you scroll through the tributes, follow "Famous Mike's" on Facebook. Reflect on the nostalgic photos and cherished memories, because they truly "don't make them like that anymore." R E M E M B E R I N G M I K E S E E K I N S In Memoriam "What makes someone truly famous?" BY KIM K. JOHNSON, WITH NOTES FROM SR. THERESA SULLIVAN OF DAYBREAK, A PROJECT OF DEPAUL USA Famous Mike's legacy continues with his son, Sam, who has taken over the restaurant. Visit them Mon.-Sat. for breakfast or lunch. heart. "If you love Allman Brothers Band music," he'd say, "just bring a donation for Daybreak and you get in free." But perhaps his most lasting legacy came from the daily hugs, the easy conversation, and those spontaneous Facebook videos, always full of updates, jokes, and unfiltered thoughts. Mike didn't just serve the Macon community; he stitched himself into its fabric. His Sunday celebration of life reflected August/September 2025 | maconmagazine.com 101