`If Shoe Fits, Wear It' Is More Than Motto For Island Cobbler

MERCER ISLAND - Chick Tabit's philosophy can be summed up simply: Nothing goes right if your shoes are too tight.

The invention of the shoe horn, Tabit said, is testament to tight shoes, which lead to the overall misery of human beings.

For most of his 63 years, Tabit has labored over a dye-stained bench or a rack of spinning wheels repairing, buffing and building shoes. He just celebrated his 45th year at Chick's Shoe Repair in downtown Mercer Island, where he greets return customers by name and sends them on their way with "God bless you." He says he owes his success to God and his wife, Julie, "the brains behind the business."

His philosophy toward shoes has been passed down through generations of Tabits. His grandfather came to Seattle from Lebanon in the early part of the century and made his living repairing shoes and selling merchandise to local farmers.

"My grandfather would go from farmhouse to farmhouse, from Seattle to Bothell to Kent," Tabit recalls. "He would sell silk to the wives and fix the shoes. That's how he made his dime and fed his family."

His grandfather eventually opened a shoe store in downtown Seattle, and later Tabit's father opened another shop on Queen Anne Hill. That's where Chick - short for Charles - learned the trade.

"As a kid," he says, "I had to go to my dad's shop after school to work. I hated it. The other kids used to make fun of me because I always had dye on my hands."

He stayed in the shoe business, working not for his father but in another shop. Still, Tabit says, he couldn't shake his father's teachings.

"My father was a master. He taught me that if you couldn't do it right, then you shouldn't do it at all."

When Tabit was 18, he started his own shoe shop in a small shack near what is now downtown Mercer Island. The shack has been replaced by a shopping center and modern buildings, but Tabit's approach to shoe repair remains the same.

"I have two hobbies," he says. "I fish and I help people with hurting feet. But I would give up the biggest fish to see someone come in with hurting feet and walk out feeling better."

In 45 years, thousands of people with hurting feet have come into Chick's Mercer Island Shoes and Service, put those tired dogs in front of him and walked out feeling a lot better.

"His work is excellent, and he has it done when he says it will be done," says Al Larson, who has been a customer for 30 years. "And I come in here for Chick."

If a customer has the repairs done with something Tabit invented - called "Chick Material" - Tabit will guarantee those soles for life.

"My uppers wear out before my soles wear out," Larson says. He introduced Tabit's shop to his son-in-law, who now drives down from Bellingham to have his shoes repaired. Other customers come from across the country.

The other day, Tabit was asked to fix a pair of shoes he recognized as a pair he repaired 20 years ago. A good pair of shoes should last a lifetime, he says.

So what kind of shoes does a shoemaker wear? Tabit's were built by the master himself and they're size 12 EEEEE. They look more like the circus clowns' clodhoppers that go flop-flop-flop. They are black, tattered and look as if they haven't seen polish since Nixon was president. Perhaps aware that image still counts for something, however, Tabit declines to have them photographed.

"These shoes are like walking on a mossy field all day long," he says as he slaps one of the boat-sized shoes on the counter and starts tearing it apart.

The insides are an engineering marvel. There's a pad, molded to fit Tabit's arches, that rests on a cushion of foam rubber and leather. He is able to slip on the footwear without bending over. People should be able to put their shoes on without using a shoehorn or tugging on the back, he says.

Tabit's son, Chris, and daughter, Juliena, now work in the shop along with Chris' 12-year-old son, C.J.

"I've been working here since I was 8 years old," Chris says. "I could have done a lot of things, but this is where I am supposed to be.

"I don't define the quality of life by how much money you make but how much you make out of life."

That sounds like something his father, grandfather and great-grandfather would say.