So who wasn’t there?
It seemed like everyone who had ever played music or danced to it in Emmett’s Place, the Northeast’s venerable Irish pub, was on hand for the big farewell bash. The joint was so crowded, people had to enter in shifts. At one point, an entire drum set needed to be assembled out on the sidewalk.
We could tell you more, but far better to show.
Since 1971, Emmett’s Place in Oxford Circle has been the place to go for great Irish music and dancing every weekend. But now, after 37 years, owner Emmett Ruane is retiring. And in true Irish fashion, his friends are holding a “wake” for the place where they drank beer and danced sets even as the neighborhood became less and less Irish.
On Saturday, October 25, some of the musicians who played at Emmett’s—for some of them, one of their first gigs after arriving in the city from Ireland—will be providing the music one last time. (Update, October 27, 2008: Here’s a video sampler of the farewell party.)
Starting at 7 PM, you might catch Tommy Moffitt, the Vince Gallagher Band, the Malones and Their Cousin, Gerry TImlin, the King Brothers, Erins’ Heirs, Mike Brill, Paul Moore, Tom McHugh, Pat Campbell, Oliver McElhone, The Birmingham Six, The Brigade, Cletus McBride, The Celtic Connection, Tom Kelly, the Tara Gael Dancers, and more. (If you’re interested in being a part of the musical troupe, contact Fintan Malone at (215) 379-0424.)
Moore, lead singer of Paddy’s Well, previously of Blackthorn, says he knows the place and its owner “all too well.”
“He’s one of the finest people I know.” says Moore. “I am thrilled he can retire happily after all those years and that we can give him a nice farewell this weekend. All of the bands that I have ever played with got our first chance to play publicly there—Blarney Stones a/k/a Blarney, Blackthorn and Paddy’s Well. He was always true to keeping Irish music in the pub all through the years—’til the very end—through good years and bad.
“I love and respect the fact that he gave so many musicians a chance to succeed in the past 40 years so I am really looking forward to giving him a big farewell this weekend and saying thanks for everything.
“I have so many funny stories and happy memories from emmett’s place that it is hard to pick one. But I would say that my dad (Paul) and my grandfather (Will O’Donnell) only ever heard me perform in public in one place before they both passed away in 1990. It was Emmett’s Place and that’s something i’ll always remember.”
Dancers, too have their memories.
Marianne MacDonald, host of the radio show “Come West Along the Road,” has been going to Emmett’s since the early ’90s. She recalls her first visit. “I went to see Blarney (Fintan and Tom Brett). There was a full crowd, with several folks from New Jersey. On the way home, we realized that Levick Street was one way in the wrong direction and, not being sure what to do, we made a right and ended up doing a scenic tour of North Philly on the way home. The next time we made sure we followed someone who knew the way.
“There were many memorable times but probably one of my favorites was the night before Thanksgiving when Tommy Moffit would play and all of the folks would come in and catch up with each other. The place would be packed to the gills, you could hardly move, you were lucky if you got a seat and there would be three or four sets dancing on the tiny dance floor. It was always a great night, lots of fun and you’d see people you hadn’t seen in months.
“I think it’s sort of like the Northeast’s answer to Cheers, where everyone knows your name. You always felt very comfortable coming through that front door and you’d hear folks calling hello, waving to you and there would be Emmett at the back of the bar by the kitchen or at his table with the lamp.
“I know I will miss the place an awful lot. I hadn’t been getting there as much as I used to but I always tried to get there at least once a month. Emmett deserves a lot of credit for starting the Irish music and keeping it running all these years, through thick and thin. I feel like it’s the end of an era but Emmett certainly deserves a well-earned retirement! I hope everyone comes out next Saturday night for the send-off party.”
Hey, we’re going to be there! Hope to see you too! Emmett’s Place is at 925 Levick Street.
Mama Dolan serves up the ham and cabbage.
It’s a bar. A big, rectangular wooden bar with barely enough room to fit drinkers two deep around it. On St. Patrick’s Day, Dolan’s Bar, in the little borough of Ridley Park, is so crowded that if someone at the front of the bar orders one of Momma D’s buck-fifty cabbage and ham platters, the waitress has to go out the back door and come in the front to deliver it.
Oh, and Momma D’s cabbage and ham platters are worth the outdoor trek. She cooks the cabbage and the potatoes on a layer of cabbage leaves and ham rind that turns the cabbage dark and sweet and the potatoes moist and smoky. The aroma alone is transporting.
This is the place where you want to spend St. Patrick’s Day. Founded in the mid-40s by Irish immigrant Patrick Dolan, the bar, which moved to the small town (population 7,200) in 1954, passed down to his son Pat (Poppa D), and five years ago to Pat’s son Pat (called P.J.), who honed his cooking skills in Kinsale, Ireland.
But it’s Momma D—Irma—who still reigns in the kitchen on St. Patrick’s Day. “I’ve been making my ham and cabbage for more than 30 years,” she says, loading a plate with a quarter head of cabbage, three potatoes, and two thick slices of ham in the bar kitchen, which is so small that one person is a crowd.
At one time, Irma recalls, the bar didn’t have a kitchen. “They had one next door and when someone wanted food we would call over on an intercom,” she chuckles. Because Dolan’s operates on a state restaurant license, by law, the bar has to have enough food on hand for 32 people, she says. In the early days, her father-in-law kept to the letter by stocking 32 cans of soup. Then Irma began to cook. On St. Paddy’s, she may go through two crates of cabbage, 50 pounds of potatoes and 70 pounds of ham.
“This is really what it’s all about,” says Ridley Park Mayor Hank Ebersole, who came into the bar decorated like parade float with a glittery green hat and green crepe paper taped to his jacket. “This is a bar. I mean, a bar-bar, where people come to drink and talk.”
Like Tom Benson and Tim France. Benson is a Ridley Park lifer who inherited Dolan’s from his father. “My Dad used to drink here, then I did,” he says. “In fact, my whole family drinks here.” Tim France, a Ridley Parker who now lives in Yardley, Bucks County, also has Dolan’s in his genes. “This is where my Dad drank too,” he says. “We look at Dolan’s as something like ‘Cheers,’” says Benson. “When you come in here day or night, you’ll know someone.”
In fact, every time the front door swung open, sending a blast of sunlight into the dark, smoky bar, a cheer went up as though Norm was showing up every few minutes.
Dolan’s isn’t one of those mass-produced Irish pubs with Harp on draft and quaint Celtic antiques to remind you of the last time you hoisted a few in County Clare. You want draft and you’d better like Bud. If it weren’t in the middle of the block on Sellers Avenue, you could describe it as the “corner tappy.” But there’s that unmistakable hospitality and good cheer that says “Ireland.” Even the employees show up on their days off—like bartender Jay Whaley, who anchored a corner of the bar with his beer and led the patrons in singing and clapping to whatever Irish music was playing. “He does Blackthorn great,” says Poppa D. “We have a party the Friday before Christmas. He leads the singing and you don’t want to hear it.”
“We call ourselves Dolan’s Tavernacle Choir,” laughs Irma.
Then there are the Bag Parties. “The rule is ‘no bag, no beer,’” says Irma. “You have to come in with a bag on your head or you won’t be served.”
At the end of basketball season, the aromas wafting from the bar kitchen are decidedly not Irish. “We have Polish Day the last day of basketball,” explains Irma. “We have halupkies, Polish kielbasa, PJ makes pierogies, and the patrons bring food too. It all started when a bunch of old men had a bet and the loser had to bring in Jewish rye bread and pickles and Polish food. And every year it just grew and grew and grew. We’ve probably been doing it for 20 years.”
Twenty years ago, many of Dolan’s patrons would have been toddling around with their sippy cups full of apple juice. There’s a healthy crop of young regulars who have their favorite seats at the bar. Like Joseph Patrick Quinn. “I’m here four days a week,” says Quinn, who lives in Glenolden. “Whether it’s June 1 or March 17, I’ll be here. This is my place.”
And Anthony Handley of Ridley, who, like many of the younger regulars, was keeping up a family tradition: Spending St. Patrick’s Day at Dolan’s. But this time it was with his dad, Allen. “We really love this place,” he says. “We don’t have to worry about drinking too much because we can walk home.”
“But if it gets too bad,” adds his father with a grin, “we can always call Mom.”
Join in the virtual shenanigans at http://groups.myspace.com/dolansbar