‘Irish Eyes Were Smilin’ when family star took the stage

    Somewhere between March 17s, I lost my head and graciously offered Kathleen Holleran the chance to sing during our annual St. Patrick’s Day party.

   Beverages, banter and blarney were flowing. Fifty pounds of corned beef were disappearing from warming trays. We drew 110 guests to our annual heritage celebration, and it was in full swing. We had achieved “craic,’’ the Irish term when fun, frivolity and conversation rise to their peak.

   That’s when Katie’s big moment arrived. Suffice it to say that she has not inherited the family gene for acapella performances, although she insisted she is the next Laufey.

   When I warned her to get ready, like a Wild West gunslinger, she quickly drew the lyrics from her hip pocket to “When Irish Eyes Are Smilin’.’’

  “Did you give those to her?’’ my wife asked.

  “No,’’ I said. “She just whipped them out.’’

   This is a young woman who knows where she is going. Developmentally challenged? Yes, but we have learned never to underestimate her. She has never lacked confidence.

   Katie has a history of surprising us. We momentarily lost her at a Special Olympics athletes’ party at age 6 while her favorite folk singers, John and Joe Dady, were performing an Irish ballad at one end of a long stage. While we searched among the athletes, John walked to the far end of the stage with his guitar and microphone and found Katie, singing away. He held the microphone under her chin.

  “And it’s no, nay, never, no nay never no more …’’

  Called out John, “She knows all the words!’’

   That was Katie. She had memorized the lyrics during our car trips and daily errands. She was a huge fan of Tommy Makem and the Clancy Brothers, and the Dadys too.

   As a teen-ager at a Special Olympics gala, she heard Ronan Tynan of The Irish Tenors sing the opening lines to “God Bless America.’’

  “While the storm clouds gather, far across the sea …’’

   “I know all the words to that song,’’ she exclaimed at our table. The news anchor of the local ABC affiliate responded, “Then you should go up there and sing!’’

   She did. The 4-foot-8 gymnast marched to the front of the ballroom, engaged the 6-foot-4 Tynan to bend and share the mike, and impressed everyone with her knowledge of the lyrics. The contrast was priceless – in height and singing ability.

   She pulled off her personal trifecta 10 years ago on a cruise to Bermuda. She had karaoke night circled on her events calendar for days, then waited in a ship lounge for more than an hour until she was called to the stage.

  I served as her backup singer on a ballad called “The Wild Rover.’’ I led the complicated verses – “I’ve been a wild rover for many’s the year, and I’ve spent all me money on whiskey and beer’’ – while she chimed in on the refrain – “And it’s no, nay, never …’’ When the song ended, I slipped off the back of the stage while she remained for a grand ovation and several bows.

   The next morning, she was still beaming as she resumed her celebrity role, high-fiving a half-dozen New Jersey firemen on the way to breakfast. When her mother asked how karaoke went, she matter-of-factly announced, “I killed it!’’

   Katie inherited her love of singing from the Holleran side of the family. Her grandfather, Fran, performed regularly as a boy for the altar-and-rosary society in Herkimer, at the insistence of my grandmother. He also performed Irish tunes at talent shows at Morristown Central School or the Ogdensburg Boys Club. I inherited that gene, occasionally leading a hymn before a weekday Mass or delivering a song spoof for a family member.

   Katie may not have inherited the gene, but she certainly inherited a love of music. A semblance of key and pitch are still developing. I don’t expect a call anytime soon from The Masked Singer or The Voice.

   That brings us to St. Patrick’s Day 2024. I recruited her first speech teacher, Barb Larkin Babiarz, to accompany Katie, figuring she’s Irish, she taught Katie how to speak, and Katie seemingly has talked non-stop for the past 37 years. She was primed to perform, but I hesitated, thinking I risked exposing her to ridicule.

  The party was in full swing when the duo arrived at the front of the room. Katie stood atop a ledge around the hearth so the crowd could see her.

    When she lapsed into the refrain – “when Irish eyes are smiling, sure it’s like a morn in spring’’ – I knew my fears were unfounded.

   When the notes went down, Katie’s voice went up. When she needed a half-note, she gave us a full note. The dissonance was apparent, but charming. By the end, she had given us a full-throated performance – innocent and from the heart. A roar rose from our guests.

   She was beaming. She was joyful. Who could ask for anything more?

  Then she tapped me on the arm and announced, “See Dad, I told you I was good!’’

   In more ways than you’ll ever know, Kathleen Mavourneen.

   Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/