Last call at Coogan's The life and death of a neighborhood bar

The forces of fate figured into both the birth and demise of Coogan's, an iconic restaurant and bar located in the northern Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights. After suffering an accident and winning a subsequent lawsuit, electrician Joey McFadden used his proceeds to fund two bars (in which he ultimately sold his interests), McFadden's and Coogan's. McFadden's friend, Sean Cannon, chose Washington Heights as a prospective location for the bar, and it opened on October 31, 1985. The initial years of Coogan's witnessed various changes in ownership, but the building's location near Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital generated foot traffic. For 35 years, folks gravitated toward the bar and restaurant for its promise of comfort, good vibes, and everlasting memories, until it closed in the spring of 2020. Last Call at Coogan's serves as a memorable Irish wake in book form for a beloved establishment where the owners looked out for the patrons as much as for themselves. Librarian and author Michaud (When Tito Loved Clara, 2011) offers a touching chronicle of a beloved New York watering hole.

Librarian Michaud (When Tito Loved Clara) delivers a stirring tribute to Coogan's, a restaurant and bar in the Washington Heights neighborhood of New York City. From its opening in 1985, when the neighborhood was at the mercy of drugs and gun violence, to the gentrification that pushed away many of its working-class and mostly Dominican population in the 2000s, owners Peter Walsh and Dave Hunt--and later, Tess O'Connor, who started as a bartender and ended as a partner--worked to make Coogan's a welcoming place for everyone. Cops dropped in after their shifts, local politicians met to cut deals and listen to their constituents, staff from a nearby hospital came for lunch, and residents held wakes in one of its rooms. Both Walsh and Hunt "shared a belief in the promise of New York as an engine of social cohesion," according to Michaud, a former regular who compares Coogan's to "the most democratic institutions in the city--subways, parks, and libraries--which are open to all and encourage the comingling of people from different backgrounds." A substantial rent increase, increased competition, and the Covid-19 pandemic ended Coogan's run in March 2020. Earnest, evocative, and full of crisply rendered profiles of employees and patrons, this is a rewarding study of how communities are built. (June)

This lovely book stems from a New Yorker article by librarian Michaud (When Tito Loved Clara) about the demise of his favorite neighborhood bar. If it were an obituary, it would read something like this: Coogan's. Born 1985, located on the west side of the Bronx, not far from the George Washington Bridge and one block from Columbia Presbyterian Hospital. It's an Irish bar whose Irish American owners believed in having a multicultural staff; its longtime greeter was Black, and bartenders and servers were Dominican and Indian. Patrons were of diverse backgrounds; they were hospital workers, cops, politicos, and neighborhood residents who valued a good time. Life at Coogan's was the opposite of social distancing, but by 2020, gentrification and rising costs put the restaurant at risk. Then came the pandemic. Michaud provides cameos of the owners, workers, and regulars and a rich accounting of the pleasures and woes of this remarkable neighborhood social institution. VERDICT Warm, humane, and generous, this book ticks every box for a pleasurable read.--David Keymer