'Last Call at Coogan's,' the Story of a Neighborhood Bar

From all appearances, New York City’s Washington Heights wasn’t the most logical neighborhood in which to open a new Irish bar and restaurant in the 1980s. At the time, most of the city’s Irish bars were much farther downtown and catered either to the 20-something preppy crowd or the old men pining for a pint to remind them of the old country.

The upper reaches of Manhattan was a different scene altogether. Home to a predominately Puerto Rican and Dominican population, in those days, the neighborhood was tenuous at best, and dangerous at worst. Rife with drugs, crime and a lack of consistent foot traffic, there were few restaurants operating in the area that served locals and not much interest on the part of publicans to open a new eating and drinking establishment there.

But that’s exactly what the brass at New York Presbyterian Hospital wanted for their neighborhood, and in 1985, they enticed partners Joey McFadden and Sean Cannon (who had previously run Tiana Beach Club in Hampton Bays) to open Coogan’s bar and restaurant in a hospital-owned building on the corner of 169th Street and Broadway. Located just a block from New York Presbyterian, it quickly became the go-to alternative to the hospital’s cafeteria and a source of respite for employees, patients and visitors who headed there to grab a bite for lunch or dinner, or take in a drink with colleagues after work.

But Coogan’s soon grew to be more — much more. Over the course of its 35 years in business, the bar became a veritable institution in a neighborhood that lacked any kind of cohesive and obvious center. In a very real sense, Coogan’s served as the beating heart of the community and was the gathering place for cops and ex-cons, politicians and pundits.

While the bar survived neighborhood upheaval, crime, an epidemic of drugs, riots, societal changes and gentrification, and even a couple of changes in ownership, ultimately, it could not survive the pandemic. Coogan’s closed its doors for good in spring 2020, just as COVID-19 began its rampage around the world.

“It was the longest Irish wake ever,” recalled Water Mill’s Peter Walsh in a recent interview. Walsh, who, along with his business partners Dave Hunt and Tess O’Connor McDade, co-owned Coogan’s in its final years and was there till the end. “We didn’t see it coming. We had been in the bar industry our whole life and knew that you get out quick or lose your houses.

“March 16, 2020 was our last day,” he added. “We weren’t ready to close, but knew we had to close fast, and we were giving that advice to other bar owners.”

The story of the fabled Washington Heights institution, from its inception in 1985 to its final days in spring 2020, is the subject of “Last Call at Coogan’s: The Life and Death of a Neighborhood Bar” (St. Martin’s Press), a new book by author Jon Michaud. On Friday, September 8, at 5 p.m., Michaud, who works as the collection management librarian at the Millburn Free Public Library in New Jersey, will join Walsh at Hampton Library in Bridgehampton to discuss the book. The talk is cosponsored by the Bridgehampton Museum and the pair will touch on the bar’s history and share how now, more than ever, residents need places where they can get together with other members of the community.

For more than three decades, Coogan’s served just that purpose. Sometimes referred to as the “Uptown City Hall,” the establishment was a unique breed of bar, in that it welcomed people of all races, religions, political leanings, ethnicities and genders and for all of its 35 years, in many ways, represented the best of what New York and the country could be.

“Coogan’s was about economic integration and racial integration,” said Walsh. “It was Black, Dominican, Irish, all talking to each other.”

When asked what inspired him to want to write a book about the history of Coogan’s and the bar’s final days, Michaud responded, “I was conscious of a passing moment and the need to catch it before it goes out of existence.

“To have a place like that in a moment of crisis, like during the riots in 1992, was important,” said Michaud. “The rhetoric of community members and police sometimes got heated. Without Coogan’s, there would have been no place to go. At times there was information passed through Coogan’s, under the table, that something was happening.”

And Coogan’s didn’t just limit itself to offering food, drinks and neighborhood information. Its owners presented art shows and plays, hosted karaoke nights, sponsored 5K runs and youth sports leagues. It was where the most powerful figures in Manhattan would hold court and argue policy. During its existence, Coogan’s hosted IRA head Gerry Adams for an event. Other well-known patrons included U.S. Congressman Charlie Rangel, State Assemblyman Denny Farrell, former First Lady and U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Vice President Al Gore and many others.

Weddings, wakes, first communion and confirmation celebrations were all part of the scene. It was also that rare specimen of Irish bar where women and families felt comfortable and welcome. Among the customers was a young Lin-Manuel Miranda, who frequented the establishment with his parents. In a changing neighborhood it was a safe space that provided hot meals and lively conversation.

Michaud notes that he was well acquainted with Coogan’s prior to writing the book thanks to his wife, Zoraida, who is Dominican and had family roots in the Washington Heights neighborhood.

“She introduced me to all of upper Manhattan. We lived in Inwood for seven years before we moved to Maplewood,” Michaud said. “After we moved out, we would come to Washington Heights to visit the grandparents. I would go into Coogan’s for a beer.”

In 2018, Coogan’s was in danger of closing due to a large rent increase and Michaud met with Walsh and his partners to write a piece about the bar for The New Yorker.

“I thought it would take 15 minutes, but I interviewed all three of them in the backroom and we spent two hours talking,” he said. “If they had closed in 2018, I realized all that would be lost. I thought, someone should write a book.”

So Michaud decided to set out to do exactly that.

“In 2018, the moment I started working on this, it was six months after Charlottesville,” explained Michaud. “I wanted to write about something good in the world, and Coogan’s was that. I wanted people to hear that it’s possible for us to come together and not be driven apart.”

And though Coogan’s managed to survive the turmoil of the 2018 rent increase, COVID-19 proved to be the bar’s ultimate undoing. For the time it existed, however, it was a study in diversity and proved that disparate groups of people can often find commonality over something as simple as sharing a burger and a beer at the bar.

“What Jon found out, and what we didn’t really understand at first, was that in an integrated place everybody got along. It worked,” said Walsh. “The politicians like Charlie Rangel and Denny Farrell were smart. They looked at Coogan’s as the vision of America for the future and saw it would be Black and Hispanic. They knew what was coming, in a good way.”

“And they filled a desperate need,” added Michaud, referring to Walsh and his partners. “I think people understood the importance of that and made sure that the atmosphere was maintained. Even the cops refrained from arresting anyone there. Everyone was having a nice time.”

Walsh’s concern for his patrons didn’t stop at the entrance to Coogan’s, and he recalls that he would often walk his customers home when they left the bar at 3 a.m.

“I’d say, ‘Which way are you walking?’ You found out more about their lives walking home than any time before,” said Walsh.

Now, three years since Coogan’s closing, much has changed in the world. Given his extensive experience in the bar industry, and his great success with Coogan’s, does Walsh ever plan on doing it again? Or has the business and the world changed too much to ever make a concept like Coogan’s viable in the future?

“I’m 76, Tess was the youngest of our triumvirate — we knew we were going to be closing eventually,” he said. “It’s a game for young people and the dynamic of the restaurant industry since COVID has changed. Twenty-five percent of bars and restaurants that closed didn’t reopen.

“We were a meeting hall. Doing take-out doesn’t interest me,” he added. “I want to meet people and talk to them. So that’s changed. People don’t buy rounds anymore.”

“Socializing now revolves around social media and meet up apps,” said Michaud. “You don’t go to bars.”

So while Walsh is happily ensconced in Water Mill these days, he admits, he sometimes longs for the Coogan’s lifestyle and the many personalities that were drawn to the place.

“I miss the energy and the essence of America, the dreaming part of America,” said Walsh. “Out here, it’s not about the American dream, because everyone already has it. In Washington Heights, it’s people looking for the keys to turn the ignition.”

“Washington Heights is a great churn for immigration,” added Michaud. “It’s a great place to see that story of America and people laying their claim to the country. The book spans 30 years, and goes into the story of the Irish, Jewish, Greeks, Puerto Ricans, African American and Caribbean immigrants.”

And the Coogan’s building today?

It’s still sitting empty.

“They’re afraid to put anything there. The façade is still up,” Walsh said. “It’s sad. There are guys sleeping there in front of it.”

“Ironically, the Door Dash delivery guys wait in front of it now,” added Michaud.

On Friday, September 8, at 5 p.m., Jon Michaud and Peter Walsh discuss “Last Call at Coogan’s” at Hampton Library, at 2478 Main Street, Bridgehampton. The talk is co-sponsored by the Bridgehampton Museum and books will available for purchase from Canio’s Books. For details, visit hamptonlibrary.org.