There’s no stage in Callaghan’s Irish Social Club, just the edge of a room where legends and locals play on the same patch of green-and-white tile just a few feet from the bar. Artists like Jason Isbell, Houndmouth and Band of Heathens have plugged in and performed at this corner pub that slowly evolved into one of the South’s favorite small music venues. The Red Clay Strays, the biggest band out of Mobile since Wet Willie, built an early following here, and local favorites Phil and Foster bring something special every Wednesday night.
Owner John Thompson — known as JT by patrons and friends alike— isn’t one for the spotlight, but he’s a big reason Callaghan’s Irish Social Club is today known for music as much as for its burgers.
It started back in college at Auburn. JT didn’t know what he wanted to be when he grew up, but he was having fun being a bartender. “Back then, Auburn had three bars, and every one of them was packed,” he said. “It was so much fun. I thought, ‘Man, I get paid to do this?’”
Then Auburn suggested he take a year off to “reevaluate my priorities.”
He graduated and went into medical sales, but bartending and taking care of customers was still what came naturally.
JT grew up in a big, close-knit Catholic family. The youngest of 10, he shared a room with three brothers. That taught him how to get along with anyone.
The family lived close to Callaghan’s, the working man’s pub that opened on the corner of Charleston and Marine Streets in 1946. When JT bought Callaghan’s with Richie Sherer in 2002, he never expected anything more. But a year later, Phil Proctor asked if his band, The Dog River Boys, could play there. JT agreed. That’s how music started at Callaghan’s.
After Hurricane Katrina, musicians from New Orleans began to show up — Grayson Capps was the first. JT gave him Sundays, and it took off. Touring musicians traveling between New Orleans, Atlanta and Nashville began stopping in. “If you’re on I-10 or I-65, you’re coming through Mobile,” JT said. “We’d catch people after a Saturday night gig in New Orleans and give them a spot to play, a hot meal and a crowd that listens.”
The burgers are regularly named among the best in the state, but the music makes Callaghan’s more fun and keeps folks coming back. “I’ve always loved music, but I’m not a musician,” JT said. “I just know what I like and what works here.”
One of JT’s cooks pushed him to book Alabama Shakes in 2011. JT wasn’t sure if the band was the right fit but finally agreed. “There were maybe 60 people here. Most came for the local opener, El Cantador,” he said. “A few months later, The Alabama Shakes were on ‘The Late Show with David Letterman’ and headed to Europe.”
“That was our first ‘you shoulda been here’ night.”
There would be many more. A regular tipped JT off to Tyler Childers in 2018. The day tickets went on sale, the phone didn’t stop ringing. “We sold more tickets than we’d ever sold, and I had never heard of this guy.”
A photo of Tyler Childers hangs on the wall. Scrawled across it in Sharpie: “JT, thanks for being kind to me and the boys,” with a smiley face tucked into the curve of the “C.” Proof Childers was really here.
Rising stars kept coming: Charley Crockett, The War and Treaty, Secret Sisters, Rayland Baxter and Andrew Duhon. “People always say, ‘Let me know when the next big act is coming.’ I tell them, ‘Dude, they were here last week.’”
The two acts on JT’s wish list right now? Stephen Wilson, Jr. and the Irish band Amble.
Of course, there were a few that got away, including Chris Stapleton and Lake Street Dive. JT passed on Sturgill Simpson because he didn’t want to turn off the TVs on a Saturday night during the Auburn and Alabama football games. He also missed an email from Margo Price asking to play, then he saw her on a late-night show. “That stuff makes your stomach drop,” he said.
Then there was the night Robert Plant walked in. Callaghan’s was nearly empty. Plant wandered the room, asking questions about the photos on the walls. He sat down at a large, round table with his band and a few others lucky to be there. “I sat next to the legendary Buddy Miller for half an hour before I realized who he was.” JT said. He spent most of the night talking to Patty Griffin, who was also in the band.
Callaghan’s helps local artists like Meredith Hicks and Garrett Howell find their sound and grow their audience. “It’s crazy how much talent is in this town,” JT said.
Camm Lewis is building his own following at Callaghan’s. “You walk in and see the musicians on the wall. At first, it’s intimidating, like something you have to live up to,” he said. “But over time, it becomes something deeper. Callaghan’s reminds me why I make music.”
Callaghan’s stays small because there’s no room to grow. Bands play inches from the crowd, and on hot, packed nights, the windows swing open, letting the heat and music spill outside. Sometimes a singer climbs up to play for the folks outside, turning the whole block into part of the show.
Wednesday nights are a ritual, thanks to Phil Proctor, who’s played more shows at Callaghan’s than anyone else. For the past decade, he and Stan Foster have played as Phil and Foster, a talented but laid-back duo that trades songs, cracks jokes and invites other musicians to sit in.
“We’ve played together so long, we’re like athletes who know what the other’s going to do,” Phil said. “Sometimes it’s bluegrass, sometimes folk and sometimes we bring out the electric gear. It depends on the night.”
JT also gives local bands like Phil and Foster a chance to open for touring acts. “JT gave us a springboard,” Stan said. “We used to have to tour to build a fanbase. Now the fans come to us.”
RIGHT New Orleans singer Kristin Diable takes to the tabletops // Photo by Stephen Anderson
Callaghan’s treats bands like family and makes them feel at home. Justin Townes Earle kept playing here while booking larger venues in other cities.
“Man, that guy was so real,” JT said. “He started here when nobody really knew who he was, and he felt comfortable here. Later, he turned down bigger gigs to play at Callaghan’s.”
One night, Colter Wall came in with friends in another band, grabbing a burger as they passed through town. “I heard his deep voice and said, ‘Colter Wall?’ I told him, ‘Man, you were supposed to play here years ago.’”
“Colter Wall is one I still think about,” JT said. “That was 10 years ago, when nobody had heard of him. His manager emailed me a few times, but it just never came together. It’s hard to book a Friday night show for someone no one’s heard of yet, especially on a night we’re already packed. So I let it go.”
Callaghan’s was the first out-of-state gig for the duo Oh Jeremiah. Jeremiah and Erin Strickland were living in Hattiesburg and trying to play beyond Mississippi. “We campaigned for that Callaghan’s show like we were running for office,” Jeremiah said. “JT was the first person to believe in us, and it was the most we’d been paid.”
When Oh Jeremiah arrived at Callaghan’s, JT told them to order whatever they wanted. “That’s when we learned that if a venue treats you well, you’ll have a good time,” Erin said.
JT saw something in Jeremiah beyond his music and kept asking, “When are we getting a book out of you?” That nudge helped Jeremiah write “Jones County Ghosts,” a collection of funny stories from his life in Laurel, Mississippi. The book came out in June.
Oh Jeremiah’s photo hangs on a wall in the green room — a small room off the side with a poker table, a jukebox and walls covered in setlists of songs played at Callaghan’s. Some lists are typed, others scribbled in Sharpie. There’s one from Donna Hall’s birthday bash with “Angel from Montgomery” and “Stormy Monday,” and another from Illiterate Light, listing crowd favorites like “Sometimes Love Takes So Long.” Some setlists are just one-word clues: “Nothin’,” “Nail,” “Meringue” and “Cake.” Others include inside notes — “ambient break in C” or “trumpet improvises around melody.” Another just lists symbols: an umbrella, glasses, a clock and a mustache.
Those setlists tell the story of a pub that’s constantly evolving. From TikTok to COVID, both the music and the crowds are shifting. “Ten years ago, retro soul was the hot thing,” JT said. “Now it’s ‘Yellowstone country’ bands.” The music slowed during the pandemic: bands didn’t tour, so Callaghan’s only booked local acts. “Venues still haven’t recovered from COVID,” he adds. “People don’t go out like they did.”
Another change during those years was the death of local DJ Catt Sirten. “People don’t realize how much Catt shaped Mobile’s music,” JT said. “He played stuff way before anyone else, and he’s why I like what I like. He was a big supporter of music at Callaghan’s.”
JT is proud of what his pub has become over the last 22 years and still feels lucky to be a part of it. But he’s quick to say he’s just a co-worker and a small part of the success.
“Callaghan’s wouldn’t be the same without this neighborhood, this old building and our music people,” he said. “It’s the neighbors and the regulars. They’re an eclectic group who make this what it is.”
JT never set out to be the face of anything. Most nights, he’s still behind the bar, doing what he’s always done — making people feel at home, one band and one burger at a time.
Listen to JT’s Spotify playlist of Callaghan’s featured artists
Coming to Callaghan’s in Sept/Oct 2025
Buffalo Nichols, Lilly Winwood, Dylan LeBlanc and Andrew Duhon
callaghansirishsocialclub.com
