WILLIAM DEEB OWNER OF TALLAHASSEE HAT SHOP DIES

William Deeb, a colorful shopkeeper who operated one of Tallahassee's longest-running hat businesses, died last week. He was 86 and had been in declining health since January.

Deeb and his sister, Annelle Deeb Humphreys, operated Deeb's Hats at 222 E. College Ave., until May 2006. The store was founded by their parents as a department store in 1905 and at the time of its closing was Tallahassee's third-oldest business behind Capital City Bank and the Tallahassee Democrat.

Deeb was a buoyant personality, who entertained constantly with jokes, savvy financial advice, salty asides and finger-on-the-pulse observations about local issues.

"He was a sport model," said Tallahassee attorney Deeno Kitchen, a cousin. "Anytime there was a tragedy, Uncle Bill would be there and having everyone laughing. He was just a beautiful, beautiful man."

Deeb's Department Store began at 111 E. Jefferson St. In 1966, Deeb and his sister moved it to College Avenue and downsized it to a hat shop. The store catered to a small but adoring clientele of older women who still wore hats.

"It was a unique Tallahassee store where (the Deebs) were your good friends along with buying a hat," said retired FSU professor Lucille Alexander. "He was very honest and would say, "that doesn't look so good on you, sweetheart.' He always wanted you to be happy with your decision."

Retired Leon County teacher Kate Condra still has several hats she bought from Deeb. "He would say things to make you laugh," she said. "And he always had very, very nice hats.”

Deeb and his sister, who died in 2007, were first-generation American offspring of a family of Lebanese immigrants: Six brothers and sisters who moved to Tallahassee in the 1890s. Their 36 children and numerous grandchildren became attorneys, physicians, judges, real-estate developers and business owners.

"I never wanted to run a store," William Deeb said in a 2004 interview. "But it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened."

Deeb invested wisely in real estate and traveled prolifically. A bachelor who was beloved by his 20 nieces and nephews, he kept his store open in the final years just to serve longtime clients and have a place to entertain visitors.

"He was a character. When he walked into a room, nobody else was there," said cousin Bunky Atkinson, retired Leon County civil defense director. "My daughter said he was larger than life. And he was."