I have no idea when I first met John “Chickie” Donohue, but it was sometime back in the 20th Century.
Where I met him should be easier, but again it could have been up in his native Inwood in upper Manhattan, in the wild and wooly Bronx, on the shores of Rockaway, or in any of the city’s teeming Irish bars where union members, immigration advocates, and those concerned with the struggle in Ireland congregated.
Even back then Chickie was an urban legend, and I never doubted that he had delivered cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon to his fellow Inwoodians serving in Vietnam.
Chickie, on left, with his Inwood pals in Vietnam.
It was, after all, an unusual war. Hadn’t my friend, Brian Heron, grandson of James Connolly, also shipped out as a merchant marine to check out first hand the scene in Saigon.
Indeed, didn’t Pierce Turner and myself receive a gilded offer to front a version of the 1910 Fruitgum Company and do a tour of American bases in that war-torn country? We only turned it down because we felt it would be beneath our artistic standards to perform "Simon Says" and other such bubblegum standards for cavorting troops.
But Chickie stood apart.
In a time of gathering anti-war protest he was on a mission of honor to show his friends that the guys back home in Doc Fiddler’s bar supported them and their service.
Thus, in November 1967, did this ex-marine set out for Nam on board a vessel carrying arms from New York to Qui Nhon. Some months later, he delivered his first beer to MP Tom Collins, a childhood buddy, then serving in the conflict.
Stumbling through the fog of war, Chickie soon thereafter handed over cans of Blue Ribbon to Rick Duggan and Kevin McLoone amidst the Battle of Khe Sanh. Then away with him to Saigon where he finished his sacred mission by offering some sorely needed suds to Bobby Pappas.
As luck would have it, he missed his ship back to the U.S. because of a little Viet Cong diversion called the Tet Offensive, but eventually he made it home to Doc Fiddler's, mission accomplished.
These and many more adventures are documented in the film "The Greatest Beer Run Ever" that you have to see. Talk about a shaggy dog story!
But it’s so much more, for Chickie’s beer crusade caused this once hard-hat war supporter to reconsider his opinion and see the Vietnam War for what it really was – a brutal, ill-advised, American disaster.
Chickie Donohue with actor Zac Efron who plays him in "The Greatest Beer Run Ever."
By the time I met him Chickie was political director of Sandhogs Local 147, Laborers International Union of North America, and a progressive force around New York City.
It may sound sacrilegious but he sometimes reminded me of another notable New Yorker – Father Michael Judge OFM. Each devoted total attention when conversing with you – a rare thing in the bustling barrooms we frequented. Both men could also see right through whatever psychological façades you had erected, plus, when the occasion demanded, they offered incisive and life-changing advice.
Whatever about Fr. Mychal, you could tell that Chickie’s counsel had come at a cost. I never gave it much thought at the time, but on reflection it’s hard to imagine that he didn’t confront many hard truths during his jaunt around Vietnam.
Saint or psychiatrist, that’s Chickie for you, and thankfully he’s still out there on our streets spreading his brand of casual joy and camaraderie with a weather-beaten smile.
I often wonder if New York City is losing some of its magic, as a generation of contrarian characters the likes of Pete Hamill, Brian Heron, Frank McCourt, Brian Mór and so many others fades away.
But then you think of Chickie Donohue heading off to Vietnam with a sack full of Pabst Blue Ribbon under his arm, and you know that as long as there’s an Inwood, Rockaway, Woodlawn, Bay Ridge, or Tottenville, there’ll be unlikely heroes aplenty to take their place.
Here’s to Blue Ribbon, friendship, and "The Greatest Beer Run Ever," a movie about one of us, and to hell with all the suits and psychotics down in D.C, dreaming up their wars of choice and misadventure that they’ll never serve in.
