Memorial by Brad Balfour
It’s hard to believe that I won’t run into Malachy McCourt again. It seemed like he was there at every Irish arts-oriented event I attended. Whether he was sitting at a table away from his electric scooter or cruising around the room, the legendary actor, writer and storyteller seemed to know everyone and everything. A few months ago, at the last Irish American Writers and Artists Member Gala (a group he helped found), the 92-year-old was there shaking hands, doing his share of presenting and offering a jibe or two.
A few years back, he graciously invited me and my publisher Paddy McCarthy to spend a couple hours with him for an extended interview and gab session. There in his grand abode, we perused his books and knick knacks while being entertained by his many stories and quips. Of course, he also shared his strongly held progressive political views and comments on those he liked and disliked.
An icon of New York’s Irish-American community, he also was an avid proponent of the kind of politics that community represented. Best known to audiences for his long-running role as Kevin the bartender on ABC’s soap “Ryan’s Hope,” he died in Manhattan after battling a heart condition and cancer.
Born in Brooklyn on September 20, 1931, Malachy Gerard McCourt was the son of Irish parents Angela (née Sheehan) and the elder Malachy (who abandoned his family a few years after his birth). He was the longest-lived of their seven offspring, following the death of his younger brother Alphonsus in 2016.
McCourt was raised in Limerick, Ireland, and returned to the United States in 1952 at 20 year-old. The boisterous scribe left an indelible mark on New York City’s Irish American community. As the owner of the quintessential 1950s Irish pub Malachy’s on Third Avenue in Manhattan, McCourt often called it the city’s first singles bar — he welcomed unaccompanied women to the warring hole — the Brooklyn native became one of the city’s great story-tellers, regaling patrons from longshoremen to the actor Richard Harris with blarney, rugby talk and biographical anecdotes.
His way with words would hold him in good stead through a wide-ranging career that included acting, writing, talk-show hosting and politics. McCourt waged a high-profile effort in 2006 when he ran for governor of New York as a Green Party candidate. An outspoken opponent of the war in Iraq, McCourt was an early and vociferous proponent of allowing gay and lesbian groups to march in New York’s annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade.
He left behind many friends and memories, some of them shared in the books he authored including “A Monk Swimming,” a memoir of his life in Limerick, Ireland, and of his experiences when he came to the United States. McCourt also wrote “Singing My Him Song,” detailing respectively his life in Ireland and his later return to the United States. He also authored a book on the history of the ballad “Danny Boy”, and put together a collection of Irish writings, called “Voices of Ireland.”
Of course he’s also known as the younger brother of the late Frank McCourt, whose Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir “Angela’s Ashes” introduced a generation of readers to the many struggles Irish people have endured over the years.
Malachy’s own memoir picks up roughly where Frank left off at the end of his own, more famous tome. This book was written and published before the elder McCourt published his own sequels, “’Tis” and “Teacher Man.” His international best also became a feature and Malachy enjoyed the experience of seeing his life on the big screen.
The younger McCourt’s account of his early years in New York City and its surrounding areas lent a different, if not altogether more brusque, account of the brothers McCourt’s respective returns to their native United States, and the migration of Michael and Alphie McCourt, from their native Limerick.
Though I could go on, I will leave by quoting the closing remarks of the IAW&A’s own statement on his passing: “Malachy McCourt has died. While this is certainly a sad moment for our community — a community he helped build — we should also keep in mind what a blessing it was to know him and to share this world with him. For someone who joked so often about death, he had a tenacious hold on life, and with it maintained a spirit of humor and generosity right until the end. One cannot escape a sense of awe about the scope of his life, and the lives he affected along the way.
“He was an accomplished actor, writer, radio broadcaster and raconteur, but for those who were lucky enough to know him well, he was also a wonderful friend. His enthusiastic support of everyone’s creative endeavors will be sorely missed. We offer condolences to the McCourt family, including his daughter Siobhan, his sons Malachy Jr., Conor, and Cormac, his stepdaughter Nina Galin, and his beloved wife Diana.
“The best way we can show our appreciation and respect for him is to continue the tradition of expression and creativity as embodied in the work we do, individually and as an organization.”
[And, as a final note, the IAW&A announced that their April 16th Salon will be a special night in memory of Malachy. For more details go to: https://iamwa.org]