Remembering Irish singer Colgan

If you are lucky and have lived a good life, you may someday meet a person who simply exudes goodness, a person who you recognize immediately as having goodness at their very core. For me that person was Vincent Colgan.

Vincent was a magnificent Irish singer and storyteller. But more important, he was a wonderful human being.

Vincent passed away on March 9 in his home in Pittsford, where he had moved to be with his family after suffering a devastating stroke.

Born in Kilcoursey Clara, County Offaly, in Ireland, Vince served as an ordained priest for years before leaving the priesthood in 1975, taking a position at what is now known as The Arc Oneida-Lewis Chapter, where he began his lifelong advocacy for people with disabilities, eventually rising to assistant executive director.

It becomes difficult to describe Vincent’s life because he could do so many things and do them all well.

He was an avid runner, a medalist in his age bracket with 20 Boilermakers to his credit and a PR of 56 minutes. He was also an accomplished golfer.

I recall one time we shared a bill with him at a local golf outing and he came strolling in to do his set – after winning his age group in the tournament.

But of course, most people knew him as a musician. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of Irish folk music, and, while he would be the first to admit he was not technically the best guitar player or singer, he could weave a story like a master.

“He loved to get children up on the stage when we played the Unicorn Song,” remembers Russel Bell, who accompanied Colgan on stage many times. “He was such a kind, gentle person who was more than a mentor to me, he was like a second father figure. His love for people and song stood out daily.”

Others also fondly recalled joining Colgan on stage. “I always loved those times when our musical paths would cross, from the time I was 14 and in the same line-up until I’d join him for a duet at The Mayo Gate, Johnny Oaks’ Irish bar in west Utica,” noted singer Anna Doherty. “He sent me a CD of him and his daughters singing together, and I wore it out in my car CD player.”

At age 72, Vince suffered a debilitating stroke, losing the use of the right side of his body and his ability to talk. With his characteristic positive attitude, he managed to regain his speech, and relearned how to walk.

He was even eventually able to perform occasionally, prevailing on friends to accompany him since he could no longer play.

But any praise of his musical performances must take a back seat to consider what kind of person he was.

“If you ever got to meet Vincent or hear him sing, you were lucky,” says former co-worker Sheila Knapp. “If you could call him a friend, you were blessed.”

The world is a sadder place because Vincent Colgan is gone. But it’s a better place for him having been here.