By Mike Houlihan
July 17th, 2026

I attended maybe my first Black funeral last month. All I can say is, “What took me so long?”

I’m an old hand at wakes and funerals as an Irish American, and have been reading the obits aka, “the Irish scratch sheet”, on my radio program for over a decade. It’s how we keep score. I remember my dad sitting at the kitchen table scouring the obits and telling me, “I’m just checking to see if I croaked!”

I have a handful of Black friends, but don’t see them very often these days. Back in the day, we partied, oh boy did we! But these days as a fat old Irish guy who can’t drive at night, the opportunity to mingle with the “folks” have been few and far between.

My neighbor Karen, a lovely Black woman of 73, lived directly across the hall from us. She unfortunately passed away a few weeks back. She had a sister who lived in the building as well, and she was also cool.

But it wasn’t like we ever “hung out” or went for drinks and dancing; just cordial banter exchanged in passing when we got on the elevator or were coming home. Seeing Karen was somehow reassuring because she represented “home” at least to me in our senior housing complex.

So my wife Mary and I really liked her. She had several weight loss remedies of olive oil mixed with “I don’t know what” that she would advise us on when returning from her frequent long walks of discovery all over several adjoining neighborhood’s.
Anyway, we loved her. And could feel that mutual admiration whenever we saw Karen in the hallway returning from one of her sojourns.

But then Mary got concerned when we hadn’t seen Karen in over a week. And in our building people do occasionally drop dead. It’s not an every-day occurrence but as Tom Jones would say, “It’s not unusual!”

So we asked around and learned that Karen was in hospital for a liver transplant and the good Lord had taken her to heaven. Yes it was sad, she was younger than me and looked a lot healthier than me as well.

So Karen’s family posted a notice on the elevator thanking neighbors who had reached out and that all were welcome at the upcoming service on a Friday afternoon. The funeral home was just a bit west of where we lived so we decided to pay our respects.

Now this is where the film turns into THE BLUES BROTHERS and it turned out to be a solemn yet joyful tribute to Karen.

There were maybe 50 people there, a few whites from the senior complex and mostly family members. And they were in mourning.

There was a minster/undertaker/pastor “Rev. James C. Hicks Officiating” with a guy playing the organ and wailing like Ray Charles singing some scripture as the pastor worked the room. He was magnificent, constantly chanting his mantra “Can I get an AMEN?” I said Amen at least 300 times that day.

Family members got up and eulogized Karen through their tears and it was obvious she was loved by all.

Then the pastor invited anyone in the room to get up and say a few words, and our no-nonsense neighbor Toni was sitting right behind me and she rose from her seat and stood in front of the casket and told a story of how her cane somehow once went missing and Karen was the one who reunited Toni with it. Toni held the cane up high as she praised her friend Karen.

The room was filled with laughter and tears and I couldn’t help but think of the scene in “Blues Brothers” when Jake and Elwood found themselves at a revival meeting led by none other than James Brown as the pastor and the whole place exploded in song and dance praising the Lord.

Karen’s funeral wasn’t quite that boisterous but nonetheless inspirational and no less positively and respectfully praising Our Lord and Savior.

As we left afterwards, I thought to myself how glad I was for going, to my first Black funeral. It was a celebration!

Back at home Karen’s sisters Charlotte and Kim and Diane cleared out her apartment over the next couple days. That night Kim left a note for us with two beautiful leather bar stools parked outside our door, and a gorgeous crystal bowl. “Mary and Mike, if you would like them, you are welcome to them!”

Up in heaven I hope Karen looks down to see me and Mary sitting in her bar stools and hears me when I say, “Thanks Karen, please put in a good word for us with the boss and please send me the Lotto numbers!”

Can I get an AMEN?

-30-

Known around town as “Houli,” he is former features columnist for The Chicago Sun-Times, Irish American News and currently Chicago correspondent for The Irish Echo. He began his career in 1973 as an apprentice with The American Shakespeare Festival, appearing in the classics there and in regional productions across the nation as well as Off-Broadway, on Broadway, on TV and in major motion pictures. He is a playwright and author of anthologies “Hooliganism Stories” and “More Hooliganism Stories” and the gonzo Mayoral campaign journal “Nothin’s on The Square”. Founder of the Annual Irish American Movie Hooley film festival each Fall at The Wilmette Theatre. He was honored as 2020/2021 “Irishman of the Year” by the Emerald Society, the Irish American Police Association. His Hibernian Radio Hour podcast can be found at hibernianradio.org and streaming worldwide on Sat. nights from 7-8PM on Global Irish Radio, GIR.ie.

His latest book ” Chicago Irish Mythology” is available on Amazon and wherever else you buy your books.

Wilmette Theatre will be screening Houli’s comedy film OUR IRISH COUSINS on Monday, Aug 17th, 2026

click the link below:

https://www.zeffy.com/en-US/ticketing/movie-hooley-fundraiser

Even more info about Houli is available here, on his latest adventures: hibernianmedia.org