-
For a 15-year stretch ending in 2005, Coogan’s co-owner Peter Walsh showed up to work every St. Patrick’s Day at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. He needed time to prepare for the annual holiday breakfast party, hosted at the Washington Heights mainstay by a cardiologist with an expertise in Irish poetry. The price of admission to Dr. Michael Cohen’s fete? Only the recitation of a William Butler Yeats poem.
“That was my favorite way to start St. Paddy’s Day,” says Walsh, 71, of the tradition.
“In an Irish Catholic-owned bar in a Dominican neighborhood next door to Harlem, when a Jewish doctor has a party that you have to recite from a Protestant poet, I think that’s really American on the march.”
The notable charm of St. Patrick’s Day festivities at Coogan’s is its diversity, according to Walsh, who runs the 32-year-old bar with co-owners Dave Hunt and Tess O’Connor McDade.
“I think what’s really great about our St. Paddy’s Day here is, as a child of Irish immigrants, I’m celebrating with Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, African-Americans… who completely get into it, everything from the Irish music to wearing the green hats,” says Walsh, 71.
Speaking of Irish music — that’s another unique Coogan’s tradition.
“The same band has been playing for us for 25 years, and it’s Larry Siegal, my favorite Jewish banjo player, who does all the Irish music. On that day, he’s Larry O’Siegal,” Walsh says, joking. “People look at him and go, ‘Oh man, that guy really knows all the Irish songs. Where’s he from? And I go, ‘County Tel Aviv.'”
” data-id=”117406498″ data-link=”https://amnewyork.wpengine.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/24732_image.jpg” class=”wp-image-1.17406498″/>
Photo Credit: Ivan Pereira
Any New Yorker headed to a pub on St. Patrick’s Day expects some rowdy behavior from the Guinness-imbibing, green-clad masses gathered there.
So when we reached out to traditional Irish bars around the city, asking longtime owners and managers about the craziest things that have happened at their establishments on March 17 through the years, we were expecting stories of mischief and debauchery.
Instead, we were regaled with tales of literary breakfast parties, burly firemen playing bagpipes on bar counters and a Vietnam vet with dance moves and old-school style.
May they give you the same warm, glowing feeling as a few pints of beer and the lilt of Irish laughter:
