Suffer the Children to Come Unto Me

Billy loved children. His favorite noise in life was the sound of their laughter when at play. A week or two before he went into hospice I paid my last visit to Bill. We were sitting on his back deck, watching his girls and my Thomas at play. Tom was pushing over the lawn chairs. Billy said it reminded him of a long ago trip to Dublin. He was in the park at St. Stephen’s Green and a young lad was tossing lawn chairs into the creek, brushing off his hands after every chuck of a chair. Bill said he got the biggest kick out of that.

Another time we were playing in Perth Amboy at an INA fundraiser. While on break we went down to the bay and there a young boy of 10 or so had been fishing, but his pole had broken. Billy tried to give the kid $20 to buy another. Well trained by someone, the lad refused the money, not persoanlly knowing  Bill. The thought of the lad thinking he was a pervert or something never crossed Bill’s mind. He simply loved children and he often said we should all be like children–that life was all about that and little more.

I thought we’d make a short trip

Posted by Bill O’Neal, written by Brian Hill…

So, whenever it would get slow at the shop, I would go to the nOg (picking up a sandwich at Tina’s or Chiarellos) and have a few to wet the whistle. This one time I went into the pub and Billy said to me…”do you want to go to lunch?” well… not one to turn down a free meal… “Sure!” Says I.  We got into the white van [we all remember the white van] and headed off to our lunch I called Lin and said I would be a bit late getting home ( I was expected at 4pm) and I set off with Billy. After a bit of small talk I realized we were on the turnpike and I said “were we going?”…then there’s that twinkle, “do you remember the place in the New York Times we read about a few weeks ago? You remember, the (Grand Central) Oyster Bar? I thought we could go there”. Well, there was no way I was going to get home by 4. We parked in a lot or parking garage and made our way inside sitting in the middle of this beautiful establishment. Stunning arch tile ceilings with elegant architectural lines, and quaint red and white checkerboard tablecloths, it was magnificent. The waiter came over to take our order and Billy said “where are your oysters from?” he starts in the U.S. and begins naming everywhere we could think of…but he misses one place…Billy says, “what about Galway Bay?” The waiter replied ‘yes, Galway Bay’ we each ordered 18, 6 from Galway, 6 from Chincoteague Island, and 6 from Frobisher Bay. I looked at the prices and Billy said “you get the tip”…6 from Washington State, 6 from New Orleans, 6 from Kymoto. 6 from Galway again, Chesapeake Bay Blue Points , and 6 from Malpeque…they never stopped, I think it was about 10 dozen total. Each tray brought another beer and when we were finished we just laughed and laughed, my God we felt like little kids. Billy could do that to you in an instant. Then he said to the waiter “Do you make good oyster stew?” ‘yes’ “we’ll each have one”. Now I am thinking about doing the Roman thing. Where the hell am I going to put oyster stew? But it found a place and it was delicious. It was the first time of many where I watched as Billy licked the plate clean. He looked up at the bar and noticed the bottle on the shelf of the bar. “Did you ever have Macallan single Malt?”, ‘no’ Billy, “we’ll have two shots in big glass” It was delicious. Lunch was $375.00. I left a big tip. Holy cow! I couldn’t wait to tell Lin.

We leave and head north! Now where? “well I thought we’d make a short trip to a bar up in the Bronx to see Black 47 play. Until that moment it did not hit me that I was on a bona fide full blown adventure with Briggs. I had heard about them, seen what the cat dragged in after them, but never been part of it, until now. I needed to pace myself, I began to drink water, it did not help. We arrived at this bar, I have no idea where… it was dark. Grabbed some boxes out of the back and went inside. He introduced me to so many people I could not remember who they were. For years after that people would come up to me and say hello, they met me in the Bronx…I definitely do not remember anything specific about this part of the night other than a really good time… a grand old time. Got laughed at many times for the water in between the Guinness, but it was a stellar night. At three we headed back to Trenton (man was I in deep, good thing I called from Grand Central). I think I passed out sometime after that and remember Billy saying, “Man I was drunk and threw up, good thing you drove back” we laughed hard and he said “good night Bro”

 

Good night Billy…

Santa Bob

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The Pinochle Shirt

By Mike Rhodes

The year that Tir na nOg opened I owned a screenprinting and embroidery business.  Not long after the new place opened Billy asked me to print up some shirts that Jean Warren had designed with original logo that showed the mythology of Tir na nog.  I am not sure how many of you remember those shirts.

Anyway some months later Billy had gone to Ireland for Dennis and Caroline Griffin’s wedding.  The week he was gone Mark Mahon, Frank Connell and I were in the pub several nights (4 or 5) well after closing time.  When Billy had returned the following weekend I was in the pub as usual.  Billy had just come in and was sitting in the dart room.  My cousin Joe Rhodes comes up to me and says that Billy is looking for me and needs to talk right away.  At this point I thought I was FLAGGED, I figured that he found out about me staying and drinking after the pub had closed.  So I sheepishly approached Billy and said, “Hey bro what’s up?”  Billy responded “I got an idea bro and I need your help…”.  (Billy called me bro, he was my friend)

Billy continued, “I want you to make some new T-shirts, check this out, ha ha ha.”  With that, he pulls out a cocktail napkin with some scribbling that says, “COOL DUDES FROM NEW JERSEY 1991 ALL IRELAND PINOCHLE TOUR”.  Billy asks me what I think (I think I’m not FLAGGED) and I told him that was great and sure I could make some shirts.  He goes on to say that he wants all the places they stopped and played Pinochle on the back of the shirt (kind of like a concert tour shirt).  Thus, the birth of the Pinochle shirt.

I showed Billy my designs on his concept which he loved and he promptly ordered six dozen shirts.  A few weeks later I delivered the shirts and the look in his eyes was like a kid on Christmas morning.  He quickly took off the shirt he was wearing and put on the new Pinochle shirt, he gave me one and a couple out to the few people in the pub that afternoon.  He said he was going to give some to the people on the Ireland trip as well.  At this point I figured that he was planning on selling them and that he might wear his shirt from time to time.

Boy was I wrong.  The next day Billy was wearing the shirt again and then the next and so on and so on…I quickly realized the shirts were really for him.  Billy LOVED that shirt.

If you saw Billy you knew for sure that he would be dressed exactly the same, black pants and the black Pinochle shirt.  Sometimes he would even wear the shirt inside out…did it really matter.  I kept wondering when Billy was going to wear something else.  I pondered that for a very long time.

A year or so later Billy, P’Simer, Joe Rhodes and I were on our way to Dennis Keenan’s installation as the Trenton Fire Chief.  I remember the following conversation like it was yesterday.

Billy: Hey bro, I need to order some more shirts.

Mike: Sure Bill no problem, how many?

Joe: Hey Bill…

Billy: Yeah bro…

Joe: You know…YOU CAN WASH THEM

Billy:  Ha ha ha…spare me.  Give me six more dozen.

How I met Billy…

…by Andy Redmond

The first time I met Billy was 2001. I was new to the area and just started a Celtic band. Looking for venues to play, most bar and club owners were hesitant to book the band without a first hearing. Even an offering to perform for free wasn’t melting the icy stares. A band member told me about Billy Briggs and his place, TirNaNog. As fate would have it, a chance visit found me watching and hearing Billy onstage, a rotund bear of a man, cigar at the side of his mouth, strumming a banjo and singing in a tone usually reserved for the high level professionals of our craft. Impressed was an understatement! Between sets, I introduced myself and inquired about performing. “What kind of Celtic music?” he asked. “Irish, Scottish songs along with lots of instrumentals, jigs, reels with American variations mixed in.” I said. Billy’s next question was, “Any rebel tunes?” Not sure what answer he was looking for I just figured I should tell the truth. “Sure, Billy, tunes from 1916 and 1798 but, we don’t specialize in them. We include them as part of a greater whole.” I was sure he would think I was some idiot or worse, an academic looking for a venue to teach history. Instead, he looked me square in the eyes, puffed on his stogy and said, “That’s good, bro, to many rebel bands around. Be nice to mix it up a little. Next month, first Friday, see how it goes.” So TirNaNog became one of the first places Na’Bodach could play. A club date that lasted once a month for four years! During that time, I knew Billy as a talented, gracious and fair man. I saw what he did for the Trenton Irish-American community.

He led the way in procuring funds to assist those in Ireland who needed financial aid. His example of unselfishness made it easy for the rest of us to find time to donate our talents to fund-raising events. He worked tirelessly to raise the collective conscience of all things Irish. My band continues to perform thanks in no small part to a man who took a chance. More than that, I am a better man for having known him. Rest in peace “Irish” Billy Briggs.

Billy Briggs – Shark Hunter

As told by John Donnelly

 I tended bar for Billy for 2 and a half years at Tir na nOg and was a patron of the location on Olden Avenue, Billy’s Irish Pub. Knowing Billy for a few years I more often times than not knew when he was telling a fish story. One day I was tending bar, and Billy just returned from a trip to California just prior to St. Patrick’s Day. For no apparent reason I asked him if he had gone fishing. Well, Billy was no fisherman, but he responded, “Well, as a matter of fact I did, but not intentionally.” Knowing he was full of shit, I decided not to ask further details and he offered no further story.

 

Old Roy later came in for and he also asked Billy if he went fishing. Roy then asked him what he caught and here is what Billy Briggs had to say, I remember like it was yesterday….

 

“Well, it was funny. You know, Los Angeles does not have many Irish Pubs, more British Pubs than Irish. I finally found one out in Santa Monica and started talking to a couple of Irish guys. They said they were going to Catalina Island and bring a boat load full of corned beef to the Irish pub there for the St. Patrick’s Day celebration, and if I would help them load and unload the boat, I could have free transport to and from the Island. So I decided to help them as I always wanted to go to Catalina Island. About half way out the boat started taking on water, and I should have known better to look at the boat being in the Navy; it was not seaworthy. So the salt water started mixing with the corned beef. They must have gotten it of the back of a truck or something because it just was not fresh and starting leaking out. Next thing you know the boat is surrounded with great white shark fins. Things were getting bad so the boys called the Coast Guard. When the Coast Guard finally got there, the boat was half under water. The guys were being transferred to the Coast Guard ship and left me a shot gun to fend off the sharks before it was my turn. They even took this picture….” At this point Billy produces a picture of Himself standing on a sinking bow with a shot gun pointed at a leaping great white shark with its “Jaws” wide open.

 

I immediately recognized it as a picture from the “Jaws” set at Universal Studios, but Roy didn’t know what to make of it and was too polite to call it into question. However, 2 Irish lads later were told the same story and actually believed it 100%.

 

A couple months later Billy O’Neal, Billy Briggs, and I went fishing and Billy caught this sand shark with a bamboo pole with a string tied to the end of it.

 

John Donnelly and Billy Briggs. Photo by Bill O’Neal

The Crappie Contest

The tradition began modestly. One March day Bob Leming and Bill O’Neal were sitting in the pub, discussing the Crappie fish and its various, over romantic names. They developed a composite name: The American Speckled Hickory Bass: Quite a lofty title for a bream. They decided to go out crappie fishing the day after St. Patrick’s Day. They posted an invitation in the pub. On the 18th the weather was horrible, but a considerable number of participants had reported, eager to go fishing. Some ambitious college girls had even packed a cooler for the trek. But the weather said, “No Way”, so we threw a drink tray on the stage and had a casting contest instead. Who could land the most shots in the tray? Bob Leming emerged from the throng victorious, our first King Crappie.

The following year Brian Hill brought in a toilet to use as a target, the finishing touch needed if the contest was to be taken seriously as a crappie one. Over the years there were many winners and more protests of “foul” play. The attached footage is from the next to last contest, when Roseanne emerged victorious.

How I had first heard of Billy– by Mary Courtney

  I had first heard of Billy from Sligo Anne. She had just started living in Lambertville and herself and Nancy had just found Billy’s Irish Pub in Trenton.  It was sometime in 1985/6 (not exactly sure) and I  was living in Connecticut. She rang me laughing and could hardly tell me the story. She told me that she ordered a burger in this Irish Pub they had just  found. When she saw how  cigar ashes were spread on it she promptly called over the “waiter”(Billy she didn’t know he owns the place at the time)and said “look at that burger there’s ashes on it” so he picks up her plate blows off the ashes gives it back to her.
She laughed until she cried and she said he would be her friend forever!! The rest of course is history.
I began visiting Anne and sang with them at the old bar. When I moved to Lambertville a few years later I received so much help and a warm welcome from him and Anne and the all the community. Billy took me aside and said :” you have a gig here whenever you are not playing in New York” I can’t tell you all what that meant to me. His generosity and understanding was there and he was a true and loyal friend. He would faithfully drive to Lambertville on Friday and Saturday night’s to pick us both up and then back again. We had such laughs and that blooming cigar smoke stuck to everything! I suppose we were lucky we didn’t end up in a another state according to the other stories I heard!
  The last time I saw Billy and Anne together was on the platform of the Trenton train station many years ago now. They had dropped me off and we had extra time before the train arrived. We stood on the platform there and just reminisced and just laughed and talked about everything. I never thought that it would be one  the last times I saw them together.

God Bless Billy Briggs.
We Will Never Forget.

Slainte,
Mary Courtney

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Billy was my friend, he called me ‘Bro’

Sitting at the pub it was about 6:30 in the evening the regulars were there, JB, Willie, Mark, Joe…I was sitting close to the end of the bar and Frank was bartending…or was it Joe…no matter, A guy walks in and says “Hey, is Billy Briggs in?… Frank says “no, Billy’s not here, why? …”  ‘well I need to speak with him. I need to borrow $40.00’… Frank says, in the style only Frank can deliver, “Why would Billy… lend you $40.00?” The guy actually says to Frank…”He’s my friend, he calls me Bro”… everyone sitting at the bar broke into laughter saying but he calls me bro too! We must also be his friend….

Witnessed by Brian Hill in 2000

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Make a chip, no wait, three chips

I got tired of watching as Billy complained that the receipt should be higher. All the time, people would come in and buy drinks and say ‘hey, happy birthday, have one on me’ a shot glass would be turned upside down and the patron would do their best to drink all the upside down shot glasses away…well it got to the point that there were no shot glasses for the regulars to even get a shot of Powers,  because all the glasses were upside down in front of someone, [or two or three or four folks] (lots of people were very generous)…what’s the deal? Well Billy, being Billy, just went downtown to the local glassery on South Broad St., and bought plastic shot glasses. Hey, now we are cooking!!! Well…it wasn’t long before a bunch of real jerks began to BUY the plastic shot glasses and take advantage of my friend (he called me Bro) Billy….Next thing you know Billy was losing money hand over fist to everyone and their idiot brother with plastic shot glasses asking for their free drink….jerks….Well, I went to my 25^th High School reunion in 1994..I got a token from a friend who bought me a drink it looked like a poker chip…my mind raced as to how I could help my friend Billy………… well after looking at the Tir na nOg sign I got it…Make a chip, no wait, three chips…one for Guinness, in BLACK, one for ½ pint of Guinness or a pint of Bud IN GREEN, one for ½ pint of Bud in YELLOW… people could buy them and put them in their pocket… EXCELLENT!!!!! So on Billy’s birthday in 1994 I bought him 1000 black, 1000 green and 500 yellow. Happy birthday Bro! (he was my friend)…two months later he said to me….” I need to order more black and green chips” I said “how many?”… he replied 2000 black and 2000 green…I informed Bill that it would cost him $920.00 or roughly $.23 cents each…less then a quarter each. He flipped…$950.00!!!!!!!!!!!! (with shipping) I said, ‘yes why?’…he says to me.. ”that’s too much money!!!!!!!!!!!!”  So  I explain to my friend…”OK, I GAVE you 2000 chips…you sold them for …hummmm (1000 @ $3.00 and 1000 @ 1.50 =)   $4,500.00 and you sold…lets see… NO BEER!!! Dude, what are you complaining about…??? Billy, we are good!..He looked at me with that twinkle he could produce on command…he smiled and said ‘order the chips’, and then said to the bartender “Give my friend a Guinness”  

God bless Billy Briggs

By  Santa Bob

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Does Spellling Cunt?

Maybe it’s an Irish pub owner thing. Sweeney did it. Briggs did it. I’m talking about missspellling wurds.

Anyone who has ever seen one of Billy’s homemade promo posters can attest to the fact that he consistently spelled one word wrong on each poster. Maybe it was Wendsday. Perhaps it was speshul. It doesn’t matter. He claims he did it on purpose– that strategically placed bad spelling forces the reader (it’s a decoding thing and he’s right) to read and reread repeatedly the incorrectly spelled word, thus holding their attention and bringing the message home.

So did he do it on purpose? It’s hard to say, since he was such a notorious bullshitter. Or is it bullshiter?

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