In New York City, it takes a naked person to make heads turn, but as hotelier John Fitzpatrick rolls out the door of the eponymous Fitzpatrick Hotel onto the sidewalk of Lexington Avenue, every head whips in his direction. Fitzpatrick, as handsome as a mature male fashion model and dressed in a bespoke suit, custom shirt, and bright red tie, is riding a Segway, his unique means of commuting between the Fitzpatrick Manhattan Hotel on Lexington and the Fitzpatrick Grand Central, 12 blocks further downtown.

John Fitzpatrick, CEO of the Fitzpatrick Hotel Group, North America, has lived in the United States the last 14 years and oversees hotel operations for two New York City properties, where he and his staff offer guests Irish hospitality with an American accent so successfully that almost 80 percent of the guests are repeat customers.

Fitzpatrick is also chairman of the Hotel Association of NYC, as well as the American Ireland Fund and Ireland-US council, so it’s no wonder a plaque on his office wall reads, “Unofficial consultant of Ireland.” Also on his wall are pictures of him with the Prime Minister of Ireland, Fleetwood Mac, and Michael Douglas and Katherine Zeta-Jones, as well as running a marathon with NYC’s police commissioner. There are framed letters from Paul Newman, President Gerald Ford, and various presidents of Ireland. Also on the wall is a framed “Ellis Island Medal of Honor,” a recognition shared by former Presidents Bush and Clinton. When not in use, the Segway sits in a corner, recharging.

The Segway is one of Fitzpatrick’s tamer toys. He also drives an Aston Martin, has two Harley-Davidsons (upon which he tools around Long Island and Ireland), and is a partner in a 55-foot Sea Ray yacht, docked near his country home in Sag Harbor, Long Island. Being an extreme Type A, Fitzpatrick has a hard time tuning out, and finds it imperative to push life to the edge. “That’s the way I am,” he grins. His Irish brogue is thick, his sky-blue eyes twinkle, and he smiles easily. “That’s the trouble with perfection,” he admits. “Everything has to be 100 percent or it’s no good. It’s unfortunate, you know?”

One way he does switch off—at least temporarily—is by windsurfing, skiing, and snowboarding. The last is a hobby he took up only a few years ago, and after just a few lessons he broke his ankle attempting a half-pipe; yet the three pins in his ankle have not stopped him. He has also flown helicopters since the mid-1980s. “I had this fascination with flying since I was a kid,” he says. “One of the reasons I took it up was because of golf. I used to leave the hotel with troubles I couldn’t switch off, and I’d go out on the golf course and by the fourth, fifth hole, people would say, ‘John, are you with us or not?’ I wasn’t hitting because I was always thinking about what was going on at the hotel, so flying fascinated me. Once you get into that cockpit, you can’t be thinking about anything else, you’ve got to think about what you’re doing.”

Another reason Fitzpatrick took up flying is because when he was growing up, his father, Paddy, the original Fitzpatrick hotel baron, owned three Irish hotels: Fitzpatrick Castle (a former 18th century castle in Killiney), and The Beacon and The Morgan hotels in Dublin. Growing up, Fitzpatrick worked for his father. “The roads weren’t as good as they are now,” he says. “To get to one hotel was three and a half hours by car. I could do it in 45 minutes by helicopter.”

Keeping still is not part of John Fitzpatrick’s personality. Even as he speaks, he fidgets with a dime-sized token. “People say I can’t sit down,” he says. “I was at my house last weekend and someone said, ‘Would you just sit down for five minutes?’ I’m up seeing something wrong or I’m cutting down a tree or I’m doing something.”

He’s also a gadget freak, and in three months has bought four BlackBerries including his most recent purchase, the Curve. “I have to have the latest,” he admits. “That’s just the way it is.” Fitzpatrick had “the latest” from the beginning. Hanging in his office is a yellowing 1986 Irish Independent clipping, featuring a photo of an unidentified man who talks on a mobile phone while wheeling a baggage cart through Dublin airport. On the cart (attached to which is a sign reading ‘Call to say you’ve arrived’), is a suitcase-sized heavy bag, and attached to the bag is a telephone cord and phone. The unidentified man in the photo is John Fitzpatrick, one of the first to use a mobile phone in Ireland. “The phone was so heavy I had to use a trolley to get from the airport to my car,” Fitzpatrick laughs.

 Growing up in hotels all his life, John Fitzpatrick was to the manor born, and spent his spare time hanging around the hotel kitchen. When he was around 14, he did odd jobs such as cutting the grass or washing glasses. He didn’t go straight to college because his father wanted him to train on the job, starting by working in the kitchen. “I’ll never forget my first day,” laughs Fitzpatrick. “I peeled 700 potatoes because there were 350 people coming for a dinner dance, and everyone had two potatoes. I remember thinking, ‘the chef’s getting it in for me now.’ I suppose what the chef was trying to prove was, you’re the owner’s son, but you’re going to be treated the same as everybody else. And that’s what my father wanted, too.”

Fitzpatrick quickly worked his way up through every department, and by the time he’d become assistant manager, he left for America for a semester at the University of Nevada-Las Vegas. Then he returned to Ireland to work with his father, who now owned the Shannon Shamrock in addition to the Fitzpatrick Castle. But young Fitzpatrick was ready for a change. “My whole life had been with the family, and I wanted to work for somebody else, a different boss.”

He returned to America, seeking a job in a small hotel. “I didn’t want a big hotel, because all our hotels are boutique and small. When I was in Vegas I’d worked in the Dunes on the weekends, but it was just too big. You’re not going to learn anything except how to check people in and check people out.”

Fitzpatrick went to work for the Chicago Holiday Inn. “I wanted to study the manager, be in a hotel where the manager was on the floor. That’s what I preach here at our hotels and what I think hotels have lost—they’ve gotten big and fancy but lost the personal service. My father always said, ‘Never forget, no matter how big your hotel is, you’re always an innkeeper, and customers want to see the innkeeper.’” In John Fitzpatrick’s hotels, the general manager’s office is off the lobby. “I don’t like executives on the sixth or seventh floor where they never see what’s going on downstairs,” he says.

Fitzpatrick’s next stint was a year at the Chicago Hilton. Then his father called and said, “It’s time to come home, I need you.”’ Fitzpatrick returned home to work in his father’s hotels, but Paddy Fitzpatrick wanted to expand the family brand to the States, particularly New York. “My father always had a very positive attitude,” says Fitzpatrick. “He said, ‘Look, it’s like the Frank Sinatra song: if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.’ That was his attitude.”

In 1991, Fitzpatrick purchased a small building on Lexington Avenue and turned it into a hotel, but it was a slow start. “People said, ‘Fitzgerald? Fitzpatrick? Why would I send my customers there? Better send them to the Hilton, the Sheraton, somewhere I recognize.’ And I said, ‘Why don’t you try us out? You’ll see that we’ve got this personal service.’ We were the traditional New York boutique hotel. People stayed here and loved it, loved the personnel and personal service.” Fitzpatrick pauses for a moment, then says, “We’re not perfect. We’re in the service industry. Things can go wrong, but we make sure the customers’ needs are met.”

The Fitzpatrick Manhattan Hotel on Lexington Avenue and 56th Street became such a huge success that in 1998, the Fitzpatrick Group (the Fitzpatrick Hotel Group is composed of John who runs North America, his brother who runs two hotels in Dublin, and his sister who runs the Killiney Castle) decided to buy a former hotel near Grand Central on 43rd Street. They turned the space into the Grand Central Fitzpatrick, complete with an outdoor bar and patio, perfect for breakfast al fresco and sultry summer evenings.

In 2001, Fitzpatrick purchased a hotel in Chicago, the same year his father was diagnosed with cancer. “I seem to do things in tough times,” he says. “I bought Chicago and then 9/11 happened.

“It was kind of a wakeup call when my father passed away,” he admits. “I thought, you know, it’s not all about making money, it’s not all about opening hotels—it’s about quality of life. I was running back and forth all over the place, and I decided to concentrate on New York.” He sold the Chicago hotel, much to the regret of Mayor Daley, who had become a good friend.

These days, Fitzpatrick concentrates on the two Manhattan properties, offering touches such as Irish canopy beds, a traditional Irish legends book, and Irish chocolates at turndown, and such homeland specialties as Shepherds’ Pie, Irish Stew, and Irish breakfast served all day long. At Christmas, the chef makes a special Irish Christmas pudding.

So what’s left for John Fitzpatrick? “I would like to see the Fitzpatrick brand be taken to a different level,” he says. “A lot of people say I’ve got a great brand, why don’t I franchise it? There are those who want to take on my brand, but I’ve felt they were going to Americanize it. My father’s dream was to see the Fitzpatrick brand in every major city. That would still be my dream.”

John Fitzpatrick has now been in America for 14 years. His accent is Irish, but his attitude is American entrepreneurial. So is he Irish or American? “I’m always Irish,” he grins, “though I love living in New York. I’ve got dual citizenship, and I’m proud to be American as well.” He sits back in his chair, still fidgeting with the token. “I was writing an e-mail as I was leaving Dublin the other day, and I said, ‘I’m on my way home.’ Then I looked and said, ‘No, cross that out—I’m on my way back to New York.’ Because my real home will always be Ireland.”

Photograph #2 courtesy of Marilynne Herbert