Historic McGovern's Tavern one of the "Best Bars in America"

At McGovern's Tavern in Newark, the kelly green walls give everything an unshakable Irish tint. Vintage police and firefighter helmets hang from the ceiling, a nod to the many men in uniform who have come to view the place as a respite from a long day chasing bad guys or stamping out fires.

It's a lively and unpretentious blue-collar space, cast in the enduring spirit of the "old country." As the pub celebrates 75 years of service, it remains a symbol of Newark's rich cultural heritage by offering all-comers a taste of a bygone era.

"Very little about the bar has changed over the years," says Bill Scully, the 73-year-old proprietor who bought the bar from Frank McGovern in 1968. "When it first opened, the clientele was mostly Irish. Over the years that has changed and now it is a mix, everybody comes here."

Skully, with his wisecracking ways and Celtic lilt, has come to personify the spirit of the bar. The menu showcases a picture of Scully in Ireland, posing with a full-horned bull at an agricultural show. On the coasters, there beams a caricature of Skully's smiling face—including a sweeping handlebar mustache—next to the slogan, "IN GOD WE TRUST ALL OTHERS PAY!" The small discs ensure no beer-ordering patron can avoid McGovern's spirited mood.

"The trust part comes from the American money," Scully says, chuckling at his own creation. "But only God drinks for free."

Tucked away on 50-60 New Street, McGovern's has become a local treasure. Esquire magazine named it one of the "Best Bars in America," the only New Jersey bar to receive the distinction in 2011. On any given night you can find police officers, lawyers, and office workers mingling with college students from NJIT, Rutgers and Seton Hall. The one thing they have in common, other than the perfectly poured glasses of Guinness, is the feeling of belonging.

"When we have a crappy class, we come here," says Jeena Sheppard, a south Jersey native who studies at Rutgers. She gestures toward a fellow student. "And we come back because we are big fans of the bartenders. They really make this place special."

Annette Ardino works in a nearby office building for the Board of Education. She first came to McGovern's ten years ago and now she's become a regular member of the family. "The minute the door opens everybody turns and greets you," she says, before being interrupted by a coworker sitting at the bar.

"It's like Cheers!" her co-worker yells out.

Ardino laughs but she also agrees. "That's exactly how it is here."

How Skully came to McGovern's

While the bar has expanded its clientele to receive customers of all stripes, Frank J. McGovern opened the pub in 1936 as a meeting place for Irish immigrants looking for a taste of home. One of those new arrivals was William "Bill" Scully, who began working there at 20 years old after he hopped off the steamship Sylvania in 1958.

"When I got off the boat this was my first stop," says Scully. "I started as a part-time waiter. It was different back then in some ways. There is a hallway right behind that wall that was the ladies' entrance," he remembers. "Women weren't allowed into the bar back then. We use it now for storage."

In a short time after his arrival, Skully fell in love, married the boss' niece and became indispensable to the bar. All the while, he continued to watch the story of Newark unfold from within the pub's green walls. 

"I was working here during the Newark riots," he remembers. "I was coming to work at 6 a.m. and I see all this commotion on Elizabeth Avenue. And when I got to work the cops and firefighter started coming in because they couldn't go anywhere else. When the ABC [Alcohol Beverage Control] called up and said, 'You're gonna have to close.' I said, 'I got about 50 cops and firemen here. I'm fine. I have plenty of firepower,'" he laughs. "But it was scary at the time because of the uncertainty."

When Mr. McGovern decided to retire in 1968, after the riots set fire to the hopes of many businesses in the area, he sold the bar to Scully. While many businesses, along with the city's reputation, never fully recovered from the riots, McGovern's continued to serve its loyal patrons and new customers alike. They all found comfort in the man with handlebar mustache and smiling Irish eyes.

"Scully is the reason this place is still here," insists Pat Carr, an 81-year-old retired police officer and longtime patron of McGovern's. "Right after the riots, who would come to Newark unless you had a machine gun? But he was still open and he welcomed everybody."

Carr serves as a sort of institutional memory for the bar. He had his first beer at McGovern's in 1948 when Scully was a child in Ireland. He was introduced to the pub by his father, who knew Frank McGovern from the old country. "I was underage then," Carr says with a sly smile. "But I was a Marine on furlough with my father."

He remembers fondly a time when the pub held traditional Irish parties and patrons enjoyed step dances to songs like "Stacks of Barley."

"Now I come in here about three times a week," he says. With Scully in earshot, he grins and raises his voice. "I guess I just can't remember how to get anywhere else."

Changes through the years

To be sure, many things have changed since McGovern's opened its doors in 1936 (The exact date is unknown and official documents are scarce. "I never thought to ask Mr. McGovern what day he opened," says Scully). Women now sit alongside men at the bar. "Stacks of Barley" is no longer the music of choice. And Bill Scully, who still tends bar on Thursdays and Fridays, has sold the business to his nephews Sean and Pat McGovern. Pat, a West Orange firefighter, oversees the bar's general operation while Sean, a lawyer, helps with strategy. The menu has been streamlined to reflect what Sean calls "Simple stupid" fare, which includes "Fire Fries" and a "Mr. Magoo burger."

A few doors have been widened and some walls have been knocked away. There are even projection TV screens placed about. But modernity doesn't seem to trump the original flavor and charm.

Newcomers like Rutgers student Dan Rush, who makes note of his distant Irish ancestry, says the old time atmosphere awakens his inner bagpipes.

"It looks like the pubs in movies from the '30s," Rush says. "A straight-off-the-boat Irish pub. That's what I like about it."

This is a point upon which generations can agree, each group taking solace in the enduring qualities of McGovern's.

"Three years ago, an older fellow came here who has not been here since 1949," remembers Sean. "He said it was exactly how he remembered it. But it's been updated and so much has changed. Still, this guy felt that it was the same place it used to be. That's how we want to keep it."