Passed away suddenly on 5th May aged 52 years. Publican of the Old Red Lion, Islington. He will be very sadly missed by his daughter Alice and son Joe, partner Angela and her children Josie and Billy, sisters Margaret and Imelda and brothers Ciaran, Michael and Damien.
He was a wonderful father, brother, uncle and friend to many. we will miss him forever.
The funeral service is to be held on Wednesday 20th May 2009, at the Parndon Wood Crematorium Chapel, Harlow, Essex at 12noon follow by interment in the cemetery. Family Flowers only please, donations, if desired for The Guide Dogs for the Blind Association (cheques made payable to "MFH Charities a/c"). Everyone will be most welcome at the funeral service (formal dress) and to join with the family for refreshments at Fairways, Parsloe Road, Harlow, Essex afterwards.
All enquiries and donations to the funeral directors,
Masterson Funeral Home, Station Road, Old Harlow, Essex, CM17 0AS Tel: 01279 626238
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In 2002 my friend Lorcan Devine, a business administrator, who has died of an aneurysm aged 52, began helping out at his brother's pub, the Old Red Lion in Islington, north London. It was not so much that Lorcan had found the pub, more that the Old Red had found him. Lorcan was invaluable. In 2004 he became the landlord.
He made that pub a haven, bolstering its fringe theatre reputation, hosting cabaret with the likes of John Hegley and Simon Munnery, and making almost anyone who came in feel at the centre of the universe. Lorcan extracted life stories from the flintiest souls, and while he was a man increasingly bewildered by the modern world, he was also strangely in tune with it; a beacon for the real in Islington.
Born in Dublin, Lorcan was a fifth child and a third son. When he was two the family relocated to Harlow, Essex, where his father became manager of a shoe shop. A sickly child, Lorcan was close to his mother; he was not so much her favourite son, more the one she worried about most. He inherited her warmth, sharing an ability to touch people very deeply, very quickly.
He was educated at Netteswell school and captained the rugby and football teams. A "cockney red", he was passionate about Manchester United and sneaked off to their London games.
After excellent A-levels, he read international relations at the London School of Economics (1975-78). He was also bassist in a band, the Rabbits. Van Morrison and Neil Young were his heroes.
After graduation Lorcan nursed his father through terminal cancer. In 1981, the Rabbits' Kitchen Parties EP, a masterly piece of surrealism, was released, and Lorcan began working for Our Price records in Harlow. I met him in the late 1980s, by which time he was an Our Price area manager. I was later his deputy in the north-west, during the "Madchester" era.
In the mid-1990s he left Our Price, took a Lancaster University MBA and then a post with the Impulse retail chain. Then came a return to London, the Old Red, and administration of Offside Sports photography.
Lorcan's marriage ended in divorce. He is survived by his beloved children, Alice and Joe, and his partner Angela.
Lorcan Devine – Member 5940
Lorcan died very unexpectedly following a brain haemorrhage on the 5th of May. Together with his brother Damien they ran The Old Red Lion Theatre Pub at the Angel Islington in London.
He had recently been in touch with plans to organise a “Neil Young After Show Party” back at the pub after the Hyde Park show. Paul Docker and Guy Haslam recently spent a very enjoyable, and thanks to the hospitality of their host and the ambiance of the pub, an unexpectedly lengthy afternoon in the Old Red Lion with Lorcan.
They discussed arrangements for the event and Lorcan’s love of the “Holy Trinity” of Van, Bob and Neil over a beer. Despite his tragic death Damien and Lorcan’s son Joe are keen that the party goes ahead. Damien recently said “We are all shocked, but one thing that is clear is Lorcan was a passionate Neil Young fan and he would have wanted the gig to go on”.
Our deepest sympathies go to his family.
Regulars’ tributes to caring publican
He studied business and international law, but popular publican Lorcan Devine found his true vocation running the Old Red Lion and theatre at the Angel.
Family, friends and regulars at the pub in St Johns Street paid tribute this week to Lorcan, who died on May 5 following a brain haemorrhage. He was 52.
Born in Dublin, Lorcan moved with his parents and six brothers and sisters to Harlow, Essex. He studied at the London School of Economics, where he gained a degree in international relations. He later took a business degree course at Lancaster University.
After working for several companies, including Our Price Records, for 15 years, he decided to take over the Old Red Lion eight years ago because it was something he always wanted to do.
His brother Damien said: “It was the making of him. He really enjoyed the work and the regulars loved him. He was proud that the Old Red Lion was a traditional FAMILY PUB. But he was also glad to support the small theatre upstairs. A lot of regulars and theatre-goers are very upset. We hope everyone will have a drink in his memory.”
Pub regular Jo Moore said Lorcan was not just a good manager but also a great listener. “He was a fantastic bloke and really caring about customers.” She said: “He could be fun but if you had a problem he was also a good listener. There are not many publicans like that these days.”
Her husband Peter, who works for the Parkinson’s Society, added: “A lot of his regulars are already missing him. People are looking at the bar and wondering where he is.”
He leaves a daughter, Alice, son Joe, partner Angela and her children Josie and Billy, sisters Margaret and Imelda and brothers Ciaran, Michael and Damien.
The funeral service is at noon on Wednesday at Pardon Wood Crematorium Chapel, in Harlow. Family flowers only. Donations to The Guide Dogs for the blind Association (cheques made payable to MFH Charities a/c)
Not sure that I should really divulge the secrets of the School Biology Field Trip to Bradwell but suffice to say the subject was thoroughly covered. Lorcan was probably the coolest dude in school and made many a girl's heart skip a beat! My life was certainly enriched by his. He will be truly missed.
So many stories, where can one begin. The overall story of how one day Lorcan could be grumpy, and the next he'd be sitting outside with you, one on one, talking you through some major issues you were having and really helping out. The Old Red really are one big family, and he was the father. I'm remembering my nick-name of Bog Brush, due to a night of drunken reporting to Lorcan on the state of the gents loos. I never lived that down. I think he conected that name to my messy hair too. Another funny story is the time i was reading on a bus, when suddenly someone was mocking me and throwing stuff at my head from the back of the top deck. Rude boys i hear you say? No. Lorcan Patrick Devine. He could be grumpy, he could be serious, and he could be hilariously funny. He was like a second father to a lot of people at the Old Red Lion, and a good friend to most. He will be deeply missed.
On returning to my house in Hertford after a gap of a few years Lorcan was dismayed to find the glorious pub opposite replaced by a block of flats, the new name echoing the former building, as Nag's Head Close. His dischord at the closure of this den of iniquity was acted out later in the evening when he sneaked across the road and added a "D" to the address plate. To my pleasure it remained there for ages I might pop over and redo it!
Early spring 2008. You're in London, you're bored, and you've time on your hands. The logical solution to this problem is to visit the boating lake in Regents park, accompanied by a grumpy old boozer who really doesn't want to go anywhere (in the world). When we arrive, dad obviously complains about the price of hiring a rowing boat. I'd like to use the word 'extortionate' but that's definitely not how he described it. We finally make it out on the water, the glorious serene water! A life aquatic for sure. Now as men (or a man and a man-boy) we certainly did not decide to think logically about how best to row a boat without sinking. Nor did we think to look at fellow boats and would-be-sailors to steal their rowing secrets. So as you can imagine it took us at least one lap of the island to work out a system. The system involved the two of us sitting side by side and rowing merrily, one oar each. The perfect scene right? Well.. after a few minutes the serenity of the water and the nice weather simply weren't satisfying our hunger for experience. What was left to do, except try to go as fast as possible and streak past family filled peddle-swans like boat-boy racers? We were definitely the prime alpha of all rowing boats (ever). And the prime alpha of anything takes challenges from other males very seriously. So you can imagine that when we came across a fellow father and son rowing duo, we were ready for war. Ignoring the fact that we were due off the lake in 4 minutes anyway, we made it our duty to see off these newbies. A task of honour, and you can bet they were up to the challenge. Our boats were neck and neck half way around the island, and as we navigated our way through a maze of peddle swans, our two competetors became entangled in low hanging branches. Success. Yes, all the budding female rowing boats in the lake were ours for the taking. Those ginger tree-huggers fell far behind and the glory of the alpha tinted our eyes once more. However, as we celebrated rye cheers, and cantered along cockily - all was not well on the waterfront. Time slowed. Everything moved in slow motion. My father's gleeful face, gleaming with pride. The increasing shallows of the water, and the fast approaching beach of the central island. A Low hanging willow tree swooped down and placed a twig precisely between the arm of Lorcan's glasses and his grey sideburn. As the momentum of the water carried our boat further on, the glasses slid from his face and hung momentarily in the thick air. Before dropping down, into the depths of the murkey water. All was silent. A moment that felt like a lifetime drifted past as we both tried to intake this information. Shock spread across our faces. How could that..? What are the chances..? Did that just...? And then as he looked at me, I saw the corners of his mouth twitch and we both burst out laughing. To this day i'm not sure whether I was laughing at him or with him. For a minute or so this avalanche of comedy had us hitting the deck of our boat, before anger and realisation prevailed. Now, those of you who knew my dad well, knew how fast his moods could change. His emotional outbursts could be compared to the unpredictable weather of the sahara desert! I really thought his head might just explode. The confusion of emotions going on inside his head was making him squeel with uncertainty. I'd like to say that he saw the funny side of it for the rest of the day, but after discovering that the restaurant man he spoke to after had nothing to do with the boat hire, and that there was no such thing as "glasses lost in lake insurance", he proceeded to be a grumpy so and so for the remainder of the day.
However, i'm not sure i've ever seen anything funnier (ever).
Not sure that I should really divulge the secrets of the School Biology Field Trip to Bradwell but suffice to say the subject was thoroughly covered. Lorcan was probably the coolest dude in school and made many a girl's heart skip a beat! My life was certainly enriched by his. He will be truly missed.
So many stories, where can one begin. The overall story of how one day Lorcan could be grumpy, and the next he'd be sitting outside with you, one on one, talking you through some major issues you were having and really helping out. The Old Red really are one big family, and he was the father. I'm remembering my nick-name of Bog Brush, due to a night of drunken reporting to Lorcan on the state of the gents loos. I never lived that down. I think he conected that name to my messy hair too. Another funny story is the time i was reading on a bus, when suddenly someone was mocking me and throwing stuff at my head from the back of the top deck. Rude boys i hear you say? No. Lorcan Patrick Devine. He could be grumpy, he could be serious, and he could be hilariously funny. He was like a second father to a lot of people at the Old Red Lion, and a good friend to most. He will be deeply missed.
Early spring 2008. You're in London, you're bored, and you've time on your hands. The logical solution to this problem is to visit the boating lake in Regents park, accompanied by a grumpy old boozer who really doesn't want to go anywhere (in the world). When we arrive, dad obviously complains about the price of hiring a rowing boat. I'd like to use the word 'extortionate' but that's definitely not how he described it. We finally make it out on the water, the glorious serene water! A life aquatic for sure. Now as men (or a man and a man-boy) we certainly did not decide to think logically about how best to row a boat without sinking. Nor did we think to look at fellow boats and would-be-sailors to steal their rowing secrets. So as you can imagine it took us at least one lap of the island to work out a system. The system involved the two of us sitting side by side and rowing merrily, one oar each. The perfect scene right? Well.. after a few minutes the serenity of the water and the nice weather simply weren't satisfying our hunger for experience. What was left to do, except try to go as fast as possible and streak past family filled peddle-swans like boat-boy racers? We were definitely the prime alpha of all rowing boats (ever). And the prime alpha of anything takes challenges from other males very seriously. So you can imagine that when we came across a fellow father and son rowing duo, we were ready for war. Ignoring the fact that we were due off the lake in 4 minutes anyway, we made it our duty to see off these newbies. A task of honour, and you can bet they were up to the challenge. Our boats were neck and neck half way around the island, and as we navigated our way through a maze of peddle swans, our two competetors became entangled in low hanging branches. Success. Yes, all the budding female rowing boats in the lake were ours for the taking. Those ginger tree-huggers fell far behind and the glory of the alpha tinted our eyes once more. However, as we celebrated rye cheers, and cantered along cockily - all was not well on the waterfront. Time slowed. Everything moved in slow motion. My father's gleeful face, gleaming with pride. The increasing shallows of the water, and the fast approaching beach of the central island. A Low hanging willow tree swooped down and placed a twig precisely between the arm of Lorcan's glasses and his grey sideburn. As the momentum of the water carried our boat further on, the glasses slid from his face and hung momentarily in the thick air. Before dropping down, into the depths of the murkey water. All was silent. A moment that felt like a lifetime drifted past as we both tried to intake this information. Shock spread across our faces. How could that..? What are the chances..? Did that just...? And then as he looked at me, I saw the corners of his mouth twitch and we both burst out laughing. To this day i'm not sure whether I was laughing at him or with him. For a minute or so this avalanche of comedy had us hitting the deck of our boat, before anger and realisation prevailed. Now, those of you who knew my dad well, knew how fast his moods could change. His emotional outbursts could be compared to the unpredictable weather of the sahara desert! I really thought his head might just explode. The confusion of emotions going on inside his head was making him squeel with uncertainty. I'd like to say that he saw the funny side of it for the rest of the day, but after discovering that the restaurant man he spoke to after had nothing to do with the boat hire, and that there was no such thing as "glasses lost in lake insurance", he proceeded to be a grumpy so and so for the remainder of the day.
However, i'm not sure i've ever seen anything funnier (ever).