(Editor's note: Celebration of life ceremony will be held today, Friday Aug. 14 at the Alki Bathhouse across the street from the Phoenecia.)

Hussein Khazaal, who owned the Phoenecia Restaurant on Alki Avenue, died in his sleep late Friday night, Aug. 7, at age 63. Khazaal was born in Nabatieh, in southern Lebanon, and was one of 14 siblings.

On Monday night, his family and friends gathered at his home near the Alaska Junction and wanted to share some thoughts. Hussein left behind his wife of 40 years, Inaam, three children, William, Sonya, and Nadia, and four grandchildren.

“I feel like he was an angel on Earth,” said William, 35. “I was diagnosed a few months ago with MS (Multiple Sclerosis) and I was so scared. I shared my thoughts with my father. I thought in a couple of years I wouldn’t be walking anymore. The three words he said to me were, ‘Don’t worry son.’ He said those three words, in addition to ‘I love you’ a lot, because I’m always stressed out.”

Under the care of a naturopath, Hussein prepared a special, complicated diet that was recommended for William’s MS.

“Dad nourished me,” William said. “I lost 40 pounds and was feeling great. Our last conversation was Friday when he called and said, ‘Son, I made you chicken and sautéed it with sun dried tomatoes and mushrooms and I made you enough calamari to last two weeks.’ He’s brought life back into me. How am I even going to eat meals now that he’s gone?”

William said his father connected with people from all walks of life.

“Saturday night my sisters and I put up a sign in the restaurant window explaining our family’s circumstances and why we were closed. A couple dressed for the opera drove up in a Mercedes and saw my distress. They had reservations for dinner and were shocked when I told them what happened. There were tears in their eyes and they told me stories about my dad.

“The next man who came by was more laid back. He wore surfer shorts and a t-shirt, and carried a six-pack. He said, ‘Dude! José died? No!’ He called my dad José for some reason. He said, ‘You don’t understand, man. There are some dudes who are not that cool. Some dudes are kind of cool. And some are extra cool. Your dad was extra cool.’”

“I’ve been working at the restaurant since I was a freshman in high school,” said Nadia, 26. “And almost every day someone at a table would say, ‘You have an amazing father.’ How fortunate I was to have him as my father, I was so proud to work with him every day.

“Now everybody knows hummus,” she added. “When he first opened in Seattle, before I was born, he’d give it away for free. He introduced people to the culture.”

Nobody knew Mediterranean food,” recalled Sonya. “To get his business going on California, Dad ran an ad that said ‘Come eat and pay whatever you feel like paying.’”

“He had a very distinguished gift,” said Hussein Hayek, a long-time friend. “He remembered what most customers liked. He remembered if you like butter or olive oil. He knew about health, organic food, freshness, and how to put it all together.”

“He had a way when he talked to you at your table that you are in a bubble with him, and each table felt the same way,” said Jim Darwiche, a family friend for 35 years who now lives in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

“He had a very loyal following,” said Michael Urbaitis, a Phoenecia regular. Hussein’s line was, ‘Tonight I fix you something very special,’ whether it was white salmon, or a dessert he concocted with a special baklava, and rose-flavored ice cream on it. You felt you were being treated to something special. It wasn’t just his shtick. He was genuine. All his food was exquisite. You left there feeling good.”

Urbaitis remembers the Khazaals putting up a big American flag after Sept. 11, 2001.

“They didn’t have to do that. It wasn’t necessary,” he said of the Muslim family.

The family recalls that following the Sept. 11, 2001 tragedy Hussein hung a giant American flag in his restaurant window while Inaam painted her nails red, white, and blue.

“That was the worst time to have the name ‘Hussein,’” said William.

“I think he gave a beauty to the name,” added Darwiche.

“In fact the restaurant got so busy after Sept. 11, 2001,” recalled Sonya. “I think it was because his customers were afraid he was going to feel that way, that he would be thought of negatively. He didn’t have to worry.”

Inaam explained Hussein’s complicated route that got him from Lebanon to Seattle. Following his formal education at the highly respected school, Art Metier in Beirut where he studied hotel and restaurant hospitality, his profession wooed him to a village in Ivory Coast, then to scorching hot Chad, then a brief go at a Phoenecia Restaurant in Manhattan, and a stop in Seattle en route to Alaska. They never made it to Alaska. They stayed here.

Inaam explained, “He said we cannot raise our kids in Manhattan. He wanted to go to Alaska because it was as far as you could get from New York City and still be in America. But we met some Lebanese people in Seattle and they convinced us to stay so we opened our restaurant in the Junction.

“It’s just unbelievable these feelings everyone has,” said Inaam of the outpouring of emails from Hussein’s fans. “I wish he could now see this. He was the best father, husband, and friend.”

“I don’t know anybody who was more like him than you,” said William to his mother. “You have the same soul in two bodies. Only one person has as much love as dad, and that’s you.”

The burial is scheduled to take place 12:30 p.m. Tuesday at All Muslim Cemetery, 15004 S.E. 256th St., Covington, WA. (253) 638-9989. The public is welcome.

The family requests that you share your memories of Hussein Khazaal and the Phoenecia with them via email at: wkazaal@hotmail.com