It was health insurance and a downturn in the economy that brought Johnny Curran to his spot behind the storied bar at the Eire Pub in Adams Village, but it has been camaraderie, friendships, and the satisfaction he gets from pouring a perfect pint of Guinness that has kept him around for nearly 40 years.

The 76-year-old Curran worked his final shift at the Pub yesterday— Thursday, March 13— calling it the “final curtain” on what has been a wonderful run with the Stenson family ownership at the neighborhood bar that has so often found itself in the national spotlight.

Wearing his collared shirt and tie, Curran sat for an interview at the Pub before beginning that last turn behind the bar on Thursday.

“I worked in six different places in Dorchester and improved at every bar before I came to Eire Pub,” he said, “and I hit the jackpot here. It’s a great place to work. For every undesirable you meet, you’ll meet 1,000 good people, which is a much higher rate than other places I worked…It’s hard work, but enjoyable. You’re talking with people and having a good time yourself.”

His longevity and rapport with the clientele of Dorchester’s “Pub of Presidents” surely has a lot to do with his welcoming nature and his great memory, long-time customers said.

“John is the consummate neighborhood pub bartender,” said John O’Toole, a Dorchester resident who has known Curran for decades. “It’s a handshake over the bar, and he remembers your choice of drink, and where your family was from back home. You could come back after five years, and he’ll remember. He never forgets anyone and makes you feel at home.”

Owner John Stenson said he has created an environment at the Pub that has helped make it so popular.

“After nearly 40 years of distinguished service, John Curran has decided to retire,” said Stenson. “John was originally hired by our founder Tom Stenson in 1986, and he has meant everything to the Pub since. He will be impossible to replace and will be sorely missed by all.”

But Curran’s popularity no doubt also has something to do with how he pours his perfect pint – an art he has taught to former Gov. Mitt Romney and former US Sen. Scott Brown over the years.

“I take pride in pouring my pint of Guinness,” he said. “It’s very simple with the new technology. You tilt the glass to the side and fill it nearly to the top. Then you let it sit. Then when you top it off, you hold the glass and don’t sit it down. I’m also a client. I drink the stuff too, so I know.”

For all that, Guinness wasn’t always the Sligo Town native’s drink of choice. For decades, he said it was undrinkable in the US, and he swore off it. However, he said, advancements in the pouring system over the last several years have greatly enhanced the product. “The technology has improved because when I first came to work here, Guinness wasn’t a good product. I was in the country 30 years before I could actually finish a pint.”

Curran recalls a wonderful childhood in Sligo Town, saying the beaches, scenery, and lack of tourists made it an ideal place for him. However, his working life – even while in high school (known as secondary school in Ireland) – brought him to England, where during school and after graduation, he worked in construction and factories. But, he said, “I always knew I was coming to Boston; the family on my mother’s side had a tradition of coming to Boston.”

When he came over in 1972, his late sister and her husband, who lived in Boston, gave him a tour of the city, warning him ahead of time that it might not look great, but that it would grow on him.

“One place they took me was Castle Island, and I saw the Atlantic Ocean,” he said. “Growing up in Sligo, that was the same ocean… My sister said not to rush to judgment, but I stood there looking at the ocean and said, ‘Tell me no more.’”

His assimilation to life in his new hometown included working in construction and remodeling but in fairly short order, a recession took hold and suddenly there was no work. A friend from Sligo suggested he start bartending, and reluctantly he took a job at Jimmy’s on Stoughton Street in Dorchester.

Despite that wariness, he said, “I really took to bartending right away.”

Following the stint at Jimmy’s, he worked at a few now-closed pubs on Dorchester Avenue, at Ashmont Grill, and at Lower Mills/Donovan’s Tavern for eight years. But with marriage, came the need for a more stable life – meaning such necessities as health insurance. He said he was laying pipe in Duxbury and had applications in for several jobs that provided health benefits, when a friend set him up for a Sunday morning meeting in 1986 with Tom Stenson.

“The first thing he said to me was that was he would pay for Blue Cross/Blue Shield for me and my wife,” Curran recalled. “That really didn’t happen in bartending at the time. I came here and it’s a decision I never regretted.”

He said he still loves the job, but “age is a factor.” The pandemic slowed him down, and a ruptured disc put him out of work for a while, he said. But being a “stubborn Irishman,” he returned and vowed to keep going as long as possible. He started working days in recent years and had whittled his work down to three shifts a week.

“I still enjoy the work, but I realized it’s taking too much out of me and it’s time to retire,” he said with an edge of sadness in his voice.

He said he will miss the work a lot and is surprised he lasted so long. The only other bartender who was close to him in years was the late Brian McLaughlin, a part-timer for decades and a Boston Public School teacher who passed away on Christmas last year.

Last Thursday, during a photo shoot at the Pub to mark his last shift, Curran fought back emotion and donned a stoic and serious expression while standing behind the bar. But the sentimental was not about to drown out the fun times.

“Why don’t you try smiling for God’s sake, Johnny,” shouted out one of the regular customers from his barstool.

“Whaddya mean? He is smiling,” yelled back another.

And so, a serious moment collapsed into a laughing matter – much the way the last 39 years and change have been for Johnny Curran at the Eire, laughing with friends and pouring pints.

“The time has come for me to face the final curtain, as the song goes,” he said. “I have to say I’m sad and overjoyed at the same time because, well, it’s time to go.”