This is a poem written by Raymund Reddington about the last night of Shannon's Tavern in Jersey City, a joint also frequented by Fitz. (See page 46 of Little Chapel on the River.)
What Was That Place?
February 22, 2002 was the wintry date
The for sale sign had been up for years
Patrons were not surprised, it was fate
Yet, the closing of the doors brought tears.
Danny worked his last night behind the bar
His eyes twinkled brighter than stars
I asked, “Will you cry and be sensitive?
He responded, “That’s a negative.”
It was a place to catch a game
Though the gamblers’ talk got heated
You entered the place, you got greeted
Everyone did know your name.
Like lost children, the ex-patrons now roam
Every so often by chance they do meet
It’s here, there, or passing in the street
Sometimes it’s in a bar, but it’s just not the same
As that place named Shannon’s, we called home.
By Raymond Reddington April 15, 2004