Three of the four allegations appeared to be cooked up by pretending to be lawyers, utilizing outside counsel excessively, and taking a very long time to demolish the Old Dixie motel. The accusations bore a striking resemblance to those of Hadeed’s most loyal adversary of the previous few years, whom Staly only described as a well-known and trusted source.
The fourth charge, which was to call the sheriff directly at any time of day or night, on weekends, or at any other time to report palmetto berry pickers trespassing on county property, particularly close to his house, seemed more justified.
After declaring Hadeed arrested and setting a retirement bond, Staly ironically administered the oath, establishing Hadeed as an honorary sheriff’s deputy. Since Hadeed may now pursue berry-pickers on his own and transport them to the Green Roof Inn, the sheriff said that it was just a practical way to stop those calls at all hours of the day and night. He was told to do whatever he wanted with the berries.
This was one of the many surprises at Hadeed’s retirement send-off at the Government Services Building, which attracted almost 100 people despite the county’s human resources department’s poor advertising (three commissioners read a proclamation, effectively making the meeting illegal, and the media was not invited or the event was not listed on the county’s web calendar). One of them, Ginger Delegal, is a lawyer by profession and the executive director of the Florida Association of Counties. She and Emily Anderson, the manager of the state County Attorneys Association, drove three hours and back to Tallahassee for a mere five-minute speech. Hadeed’s significance to the organization and the state’s governance circles is that great.
On behalf of the entire state of Florida, Delegal stated, “We are going to miss you, Al,” and thanked the county commission members present this evening for lending him to us around the state.
Both current and former commissioners were present, including Barbara Revels, whose eight years on the board (2008–2016) were entirely within Hadeed’s term. According to Revels, “I’ve never really known a county government without Al on whatever the issue was.” You can name anything, and Al would be the go-to source for information because he has the history and a great deal of respect across the state. Many individuals in the state called on him, and he was able to call on them in return.
County Commission Chair Andy Dance presided over a number of local tributes, a proclamation, the dedication of a bench at Princess Place Preserve in Hadeed’s honor, gift-wrapped recognitions, choked-up memories, and overhead screens that projected a lifetime of photos (thankfully not because he had passed away: at 77, he’s almost ready for his first presidential run).
In an interview conducted before to the anniversary, Dance explained a little-known Hadeed trait: following a difficult meeting, he would call Dance, as he has other commissioners or officials, to offer encouragement and acknowledgement. Sometimes you have second thoughts about the way things work up there. Therefore, it’s nice to receive some of that recognition later, Dance stated. He’s very skilled at that.
Additionally, there was a feeling that the Hadeed era would continue. Why ought it to?
I never imagined that day would arrive. “He’s full of energy,” said Sean Moylan, the deputy county attorney who should have replaced him except for the County Commission’s misguided leadership. I’m not even sure how old he is—70 or something—but he’s still going strong. a natural force.I can’t see him sitting motionless. Moylan had recommended to Al’s wife, Maureen Hadeed, that he get a tape recorder and fill tapes with the oral histories he had gathered—if not created—over the years.
Maureen. She was the other hero of the evening because, as County Administrator Heidi Petito so eloquently put it, those who knew the part she played in Al’s life recognized what few others did.
Although we are here to commemorate Al and all that he has done for Flagler, I believe it is as essential to show our gratitude to his wife, Maureen, Petito added. Throughout his 27 years at Flagler, you have been a silent yet strong force and support system. Beyond your patience, I believe you provide Flagler your own special advantages that most people aren’t aware of. I’m not sure if others realize or are conscious of this. We appreciate all you’ve done, and I think it’s your amazing diligence—I call it your super detective ability—because I know we’ve spoken with Al and your research skills have helped us advance some of our problems and obstacles. Therefore, we would like to express our sincere gratitude for your relationship with Flagler County as well as the strength and behind-the-scenes commitment you have shown us over the years.
Along with many others who were present at Al Hadeed’s creation in Flagler, including Ann Wilson, the realtor who handled the sale of his only home in the Hammock and brought him to Flagler, and of course George Hanns, the once-eternal county commissioner who served on the commission when it first hired him in 1990 and again in 2007, the Hadeeds’ daughters, Kristen and Lauren, also attended.
Hanns wanted to make it obvious that he was not involved in the pre-Christmas vote in December 1998 that effectively fired Hadeed by voting against renewing his contract after the first eight years. That was done by Hutch King, Blair Kanbar, and John Seay under the flimsiest pretenses that Hadeed was in charge of the government. Hanns remarked that it was unfortunate that they were working together against Al under false pretenses.
Seven years later, he gladly rehired him, remembering how he and Hadeed had traveled the state with Raymond Tucker to secure the Florida Agriculture Museum in Flagler County. In 1989, they first met. Hanns, the commission’s last wit (he lost after 24 years in 2016), stated that he began losing his hair after he met me. He recounted how, while serving as the commission’s chair, a particularly obnoxious member of the public approached him to express his purported worry about Hanns’ health. In response, Haans asked if he had ever tried Preparation H. Al held his head in this manner as a result. However, we’ve enjoyed ourselves.
Princess Place, Bings Landing, and Hadeed’s other contributions to protecting the county’s natural assets were highlighted in the tributes. Not to be overlooked were the arduous years he devoted to obtaining easements in Flagler Beach, which allowed for the first-ever beach revitalization on just over three miles of shoreline last year.
Before Hadeed contacted Flagler Beach bankruptcy lawyer Scott Spradley for assistance, the project had been stalled by a final property owner’s refusal to sign the easement. He did this at Spradley’s office on a Saturday. It was one of the few occasions when Spradley was present. The rest made history: the project proceeded and the two lawyers obtained the easement.
According to Spradley, we rode to bankruptcy court together multiple times because the easement was related to the property owner’s bankruptcy case. As a result, we became very close and discussed not only that specific case but also some of the legal challenges he has faced throughout his career, lawyer to lawyer. really polite, really enjoyable conversations. Therefore, I was unaware that he was truly thinking back on his career, which was coming to an end, when we were having those conversations two and three years ago.
Spradley is a photographer as well. As a result, one of the presents Hadeed received was a drone-taken shot of the beach surrounding the pier, which embraced the now-rejuvenated beach. The photo is both historic—it will be among the final recorded photos of the old pier before it is destroyed—and forward-looking, now that the beach has returned.
At the conclusion, Hadeed, who had experienced emotional outbursts several times on Thursday night, also gave a brief speech. However, he had been overshadowed by the group for once. Today was his last day.
