To the editor:
I just caught up with your piece on the McCourt brothers and their literary efforts in the past couple of years [February 5].
I remember Malachy. He had the saloon on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where the twenty-somethings of the late 50s hung out. The name “singles bar” was an oxymoron then, since all bars along that Third/Second Avenue strip were not catering to women.
Malachy’s replaced Clavin’s (not Calvin’s) and was quite the joint in those days, sort of a Tim Costello’s for the younger set. I remember Hugh Magill, one of the bartenders there, and I spent more than a few nights with him and his friend John English covering the McSorley’s to P.J. Clarke’s run.
As a midwesterner for the past 35 years, I often wonder what happened to that late-50s crowd, and whether any of them ended up out here.
The editors reply:
The bar was indeed called Clavin’s. Sorry about the typo.