Richard Hogan: I was lost, Bono's act of kindness helped me find my way in life

As U2 mark 50 years, Richard Hogan reveals how the singer and his wife reached out to him in his time of need... and how the band got him a kiss from a French girl!

U2 perform for a crowd assembled on Grafton Street in Dublin to mark their 50th anniversary last week. Picture: Leah Farrell /RollingNews.ie

Last Friday, the band U2 celebrated 50 years together. That’s an incredible achievement in an industry famous for chewing up artists and spitting them out.

U2 have been in the background of my life since I was a child. I’d watch these four Irish lads chat to Gay Byrne on The Late Late Show. Then, I’d go out and buy whatever record was their latest offering.

I had vinyl Rattle And Hum and Achtung Baby. The Joshua Tree was constantly in our tape player in the car.

We’d all be singing Where The Streets Have No Name on our way down to get the weekly shopping in 1987. I’d listen to the guitar parts, trying to understand how The Edge got that echo on it.

The double album of Rattle And Hum intrigued my imagination like The Beatles’ White Album had. There was a world to discover in it.

Watching U2 rehearse with BB King gave me the message that anything was possible. BB was a hero of mine, and here were these four Irish lads jamming with him, and BB telling them: “You mighty young to write such heavy lyrics.” I couldn’t believe it. It was a great record; made you proud to be Irish.

Then, when I was a teenager in France on a student exchange and spoke very limited French, a girl came up to me on the brilliantly sunny streets of Bordeaux and asked: "Tu aimes U2?" "Oui, bien sûr." The next moment, we were kissing.

It was my first tryst with a French girl. Merci, U2. They kind of made it cool to be Irish. There was a cachet to it.

Whether you are a fan or not, you have to concede that U2 have written some of the great songs of the 20th century.

When Ross and Rachel broke up on Friends and Ross was dancing with the Xerox girl, the song in the background was With Or Without You. I remember thinking, ‘There they are, doing what they do, right at the forefront of lives’.

The band have been positive ambassadors for this country and not afraid to talk about important social issues.

From the moment I put A Hard Day’s Night on the turntable all those years ago, I fell in love with The Beatles. They have been right there with me, too, all the way through life, singing about love and peace.

Growing up in Ireland in the 1980s and 1990s, U2 were also always there. Their songs, like those of The Beatles, are anthems for love, peace, and understanding. Their music makes you want to love each other a little bit better.

And so, last Friday, U2 played an impromptu gig from the balcony of Bewley’s café on Grafton Street. It was a classic Irish surprise gig, in that everyone knew it was about to happen.

I got a text from a friend in the media, saying: "Get into Grafton St, U2 gig now." I was in Emerald Park, pretending I’m still young enough to enjoy the Cú Chulainn ride.

So I missed it. But I saw it with my children later that evening. I had goosebumps, watching Bono swinging out of the balcony like a kid.

He opened One by saying: ‘It’s hard to sing this song in these times’. But we need a song like that more than ever.

To hear Grafton Street in such a sweet, melodious chorus was wonderful. U2 were giving back to the city that had made them all those years ago.

When I was a teenager, struggling to understand where I might go in life, I used to walk down by the banks of the Lee in Cork City and sit there, thinking about the future and who I might become. I had dreams of being in a band like The Beatles or U2.

I thought, if Bono and the boys could make it from Ireland, perhaps any of us could.

I remember reading an article where Bono talked about sending John Lennon his demo tape back in the 1970s. I thought I’d do the same.

So, I sent Bono a demo tape of music I had made.

A week later, Ali Hewson (Bono’s wife) phoned my house to say she had received the tape, but that her car was burgled and the tape stolen. She asked me to send it again, so I did.

Another week passed, and she rang me again to pass on the advice that Bono gave her about the music and how to improve it. It was all so positive. She also wrote me this beautiful, encouraging letter, telling me that my music was great and to keep following my dreams.

I felt a little lost at that point in my life. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but it was like someone had pierced the darkness and allowed a little light in.

I have never spoken about that moment publicly before. But, sometimes, you have the great fortune of coming across people that care, genuine people with power who shine a little light so you can follow it.

Bono and Ali did that.

I’m sure they wouldn’t remember. Their lives are pretty big and busy. But It was a remarkable moment. One that has stayed with me for its generosity and kindness.

And, on Friday, they gave back to all of us. It’s kind of their whole vibe.

Happy birthday, U2. Here is to another 50 years.