During the dismal years of the early 1980s, New York’s Third Avenue was choked with Irish bars and newly arrived emigrants from Ireland. Today, a dozen or so of the pubs, including Malone’s, or Molly’s Shebeen, remain.
The casualties in the pub trade were caused by many challenges: rising costs, changing social tastes and the Covid-19 pandemic. But also, notably, by the absence of a new generation of Irish emigrants to replenish the ranks as those who arrived in the 1980s grew older.
Today, most who then happily filled those bars and stayed on in the US are middle-aged parents, living in New York suburbs, such as New Jersey or Connecticut, and are no longer, or only rarely, part of the nightlife scene.
Elsewhere in Manhattan on Friday evening, McDaids of Seventh Avenue was modestly busy, just three days before up to 2 million spectators will, according to the New York Times, gather to view the Fifth Avenue St Patrick’s Day parade.
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“Very quiet tonight,” said the waitress. “It might be busy tomorrow because the half marathon passes here. Monday? I am not sure about Monday. How many will come into town? I don’t know.”
US president Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown comes up regularly, though a veil of omerta covers related arrests of Irish people that have already happened, as lobbying goes on quietly to ease their plight.
Nobody wants to talk publicly about them, partly because of fear of US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), but also a belief that other nationalities will be hit harder, and first.
However, the “undocumented” Irish – rarely, if ever, described as “illegals” – are not as high-profile today as they were in the 1980s and later. Many went home, or finally got their US papers.
Ironically, some are now in the US for so long that their children – all US citizens by birth – can apply to have them stay once they pass the age of 21 under so-called family-based applications.
“The ones who are the most nervous right now are the ones with children who are 15, or 16. Still in school, but not old enough to apply,” said one person experienced in dealing with Irish immigration files.
Now, some undocumented are facing unexpected problems, including realising that dealing with inheritances is dramatically more difficult, and expensive, without a green card, while pension issues arise, too.
The changing immigration picture reflects US-Irish relations. While visiting New York last week, Minister for Health Jennifer Carroll MacNeill was one of many senior Irish Ministers keen to point out it is a two-way rather than a one-sided relationship.
“In 2019, Ireland was the ninth-largest foreign investor in the US. In 2025, Ireland is the sixth – the sixth – largest investor in the USA, third in the EU and first per capita,” she said to applause.
Speaking in Ireland House in the MetLife building on New York’s Park Avenue, the home of Irish diplomacy in the US, the Minister noted that 200,000 American workers “woke up this morning across 50 states and went to work in Irish companies”.
John Foley is an example of the Irish who came in the 1980s and 1990s, and stayed. From “between Glenbeigh and Killorglin” in Co Kerry, he arrived in the 1990s, “married Trish from Tyrone”, had three children and “built a great life, thank God”.
Foley had earlier attended the St Patrick’s Day parade in his hometown of Bridgeport, Connecticut, which brought pipe bands, step dancers and thousands of spectators on to the streets.
He accepts that the visibility of the Irish in New York has changed over recent decades.
“It is less than it used to be. But, cities change and we’ve got to change with them. But it is striking, nonetheless,” he adds. “We don’t have a voting bloc in the way that we used to have in years past. People in the community are diverse in their opinions from the far left to the far right.”
The unifying factor for most is an interest in – or a sentimental attachment to – Ireland, plus their own identity as Irish-Americans.
“Thank God we have that, because otherwise we would have nothing in common, we wouldn’t talk at all,” Foley says.
The community is divided strongly over Trump, more so than people in Ireland realise. The traditional image of the Irish in the US as strong Democratic Party supporters still has a half-life of sorts.
Foley, a senior executive in a large property management company, is a Democrat, and strongly so. The run-up to November’s presidential election was an eye-opener, with so many in his social circle supporting Trump.
“I had not realised that we were so politically polarised. You look at somebody when they tell you that they voted for Trump, and it’s almost a surprise because you have this perception of what a Trump supporter would be,” he says.
“And they are not it. They’re decent people. For many Irish Americans, this isn’t really about Trump – it’s about how they see the country changing. They come from generations who arrived with nothing, worked hard, and helped build what America is today.
“They weren’t given handouts, and they don’t see themselves as victims. Their values are rooted in a work ethic, self-reliance and opportunity, not identity politics.”
However, he believes Republicans “have set a trap, framing every issue as a fight over America’s core identity”, while the Democratic Party is failing because it has not got an economic vision and is “too intent on fighting cultural battles”.
“Irish-American voters don’t want to be dragged into a culture war – they just want a government that prioritises economic opportunity and security,” says Foley, who lists his points of disagreement with Trump.
If New York is not as Irish-dominated as before, the Irish identity – or, more importantly, the Irish-American identity – remains strong in places such as Fairfield, Connecticut, near Bridgeport.
There, the local GAA club, founded in 1948, has 6,000 members. It has moved twice in its lifetime, having outgrown its previous accommodation. The club says it offers “a home away from home” to “gather and enjoy each other’s company”.
“It’s very active, and people, all the volunteers work hard, with Irish dancing, Irish language classes,” Foley says. “There’s a tremendous amount of work being done to preserve Irish culture.
“The connections with Irish culture are strong. There’s still quite a few Irish there, too, but it’s mostly Irish-American now,” he adds, noting the popularity of Irish language classes delivered by native-born Irish speakers.
The social capital flowing from these connections runs deep, even as the direct link with Ireland dims as the years and generations pass, left unreplenished by the lack of a new generation of emigrants.
On Monday, Foley spoke with a new business contact of Irish heritage.
“‘Are you Irish?’ he said. I said, ‘Yeah, absolutely.’ We chatted for over an hour before we got to the job. We talked for two minutes about the job. That connection is priceless.”
