Jim Haboush: "He made everyone feel like his best friend"

“Ha-BOUSH! That’s what everyone calls him.” David Schneeweis was remembering his good friend and colleague Jim Haboush, just days after Haboush passed away. On a Zoom call with their pal Kyle Williams, Schneeweis was sharing memories that stretched back 20-plus years–good memories of an unforgettable soul.

“No one calls him Jim. If you’d ever met him, you’d know why,” Williams said. “This outgoing guy would come up to you and give you a big hug and a kiss, even a complete stranger. It was, Ha-BOUSH is in the room!”

Kyle, David and myself all had the pleasure of getting kissed by Haboush on a regular basis. We will all miss him greatly.

Haboush built his business brand serving the Arizona, New Mexico and Las Vegas marketplace. He was good at the insurance game–very good.

But Haboush’s true calling, his friends agreed, was building meaningful relationships–with customers, colleagues, anyone who veered into his orbit.

That’s why, when word of his passing began to spread through his extended web of connections, many expressions of sympathy poured in. The postings about the loss of their friend on the LinkedIn accounts of Williams and Schneeweis grew into the thousands as those touched by his warmth and humor attempted to process the news.

“Haboush was so committed to his Hawaiian shirt look that after being told by our executive leadership that he had to wear a sport coat Haboush decided to have a flower sport coat made and wore it to the event,” Tom Homrighausen of Trustmark Voluntary Benefits added. “That was Jimmy.”

Haboush was old-school midwestern America. He came from a Lebanese family drawn to the Rust Belt’s unofficial capital, Detroit, The Motor City. His dad worked in the auto industry, and the kids grew up with a love of cars and boats–two essentials for life in Great Lakes territory.

After a stint in the U.S. Navy that shaped many of his ideals, Haboush, like many Rust Belt escapees, landed in Phoenix. There, he built up his reputation in the insurance business. People were drawn to the gregarious, fun-loving Haboush. A legend was born.

“With Haboush, it was always fun. His firm belief was that you could make money and have fun every time. He made everyone feel like his best friend,” Williams said.

Schneeweis said being Haboush’s boss and friend—which he was for some time—was truly a unique and rewarding experience.

Williams and Schneeweis recalled Haboush’s disdain for tradition in a tradition-bound industry.

“He never wanted to be mainstream. He hated the mainstream and was determined to create his own and special  brand,” Schneeweis said.

When others came to a meeting in suit and tie, Haboush sported a bowling shirt or Tommy Bahama Hawaiian gear.

“He was a-typical, and people loved it because he was genuine,” Williams said.

As they reminisced about their old friend, Williams and Schneeweis spoke only of him in the present tense. Clearly, he was still very much alive to them.

When this was pointed out, Schneeweis smiled. “It is hard to believe he’s gone. Haboush was all in, all the time. He was fearless about building relationships and maintaining them. Sure, he was a great salesman. But that was never his objective. He wanted to know people.

“With Haboush, he was about people first. He would do anything for anybody at any time.”

Haboush leaves behind Ellen, his wife of three decades, and adult children Derek and Danielle. A memorial service is scheduled for Nov. 7, 9:30 a.m., Royal Palms Resort, Phoenix.