There are places in every town that feel like more than just businesses. They feel like home. In our little corner of the world, Blarney Castle was one of those places.

For 70 years, the restaurant in Rome was more than just a pizza joint, it was where families came together, where Little League teams celebrated, and where friends gathered after a long day. It’s hard to believe that ten years have passed since Bill “Bongo” Fleming locked the doors for the last time and Blarney Castle became a memory instead of a meeting place.

Where Everybody Knew Your Name (and Your Pizza Order)
Blarney Castle wasn’t fancy, but it didn’t need to be. It had something better; it had heart. It was the kind of place where you could walk in and see familiar faces at the bar, hear kids laughing over a pinball game, and smell that legendary thin-crust pizza coming fresh out of the oven.

If you grew up in this town, chances are you had a Blarney Castle memory. Rob Johnson sure does:

“I would get off the bus every day, go inside, grab a soda, and play the baseball game! As I got older, I spent many nights after softball eating great pizza, enjoying good food, and closing the place down. So many fun times!”

Josh Taylor recalled his fond memories of Blarney Castle, saying:

“I never got tired of the pizza. Even when it was served piping hot, my friends and I somehow managed to eat it without burning our mouths. I also loved going in when Bongo’s parents, Bill and Frieda, ran the place. To me, Blarney Castle was the Mason-Dixon line of the Cubs/Cardinals rivalry, a place where fans of both teams could come together over a great meal, despite their baseball loyalties.”

For some, Blarney Castle was about softball nights. Barb O’Connor recalls how her softball team celebrated there after games, even winning a few trophies for Frieda.

Pam Stratton Wassi remembers how Blarney Castle was a regular part of life in Rome Heights:

“Living in Rome Heights, we would go there every couple of weeks or do carry-out. Nothing still compares to their pizza!”

Steve Swan remembers nights after Little League baseball games when he and his dad would grab a pizza and play a game of pool while waiting for their order.

And sometimes, Blarney Castle even became a place for crazy dares. Mick Blunier recalls one unforgettable night:

“Me and some friends dared Bobby Arndt to chug a bottle of hot sauce. He did, won the bet, and was sick the next two days! Ah, those were the days!”

The Story of the Bills
The history of Blarney Castle is also the history of the Fleming family, spanning multiple generations. Originally, the business was called Cow Bell Inn, run by Anna Cook, better known as “Cow Bell Annie,” who started it in 1933. In 1943, William Gallagher Fleming (1887–1952) purchased the establishment and relocated it the following year, renaming it Blarney Castle.

His son, William Bates Fleming (1915–1985), took over after his father’s passing and continued to grow the restaurant’s reputation as a beloved local institution. Eventually, the business was passed down to William James Fleming, along with his brothers Ed and J.C. Fleming, who upheld the family legacy, keeping the doors open and the tradition alive until its closure in 2014.

Blarney Castle wasn’t just a business—it was a family’s dedication to serving great food and creating a welcoming space for the community. Each generation ensured it remained a cherished spot, adapting through the years to maintain its place in the hearts of many. Each generation ensured it remained a cherished spot, adapting through the years to maintain its place in the hearts of many.

Why Blarney Castle Had to Close
Like so many small-town businesses, Blarney Castle faced tough times. In 2008, Illinois’ smoking ban hit places like Blarney’s hard. Then came rising costs, more regulations, and the simple fact that running a restaurant isn’t easy, especially one as well-loved as this.

By the time 2014 rolled around, Bongo knew it was time to say goodbye. He wasn’t happy about it, and neither was the community. The news spread fast, and in those final weeks, people came from all over to grab one last pizza, one last beer, one last moment inside those walls.

“The money you have to pay to stay in business is ridiculous,” Fleming said back then. “They just keep coming after you and coming after you, and you can’t survive.”

A new restaurant, Sliders Pizza & Pub, took over the location for a while, and Fleming even stayed around for a bit to make sure the new owners got the pizza recipe just right. But eventually, Sliders shut down too, and the building, once full of life, sat quiet.

A Legacy That Won’t Fade
From the time I was old enough to walk through the doors with my mom and dad, which was quite often, Bongo never called me by name. Instead, as I grew into my teen and early adult years, he’d always greet me with a familiar, “Hey Redbird.” It was his playful way of acknowledging me—his way of showing appreciation, even though he knew I was a devoted St. Louis Cardinals fan, the archrival of his beloved Cubs.

Even though the doors closed, the memories didn’t.

For Amy White, it was walking across the highway with her big brother Jerry to pick up carry-out.

“He’d hoist me up on his shoulders, and I’d balance the pizza box on his head, giggling all the way home.”

For Shawn Yarger, it was working inside the kitchen, making a staggering 200 pizzas in five hours on a Friday night.

For Lou Ann Harms, Blarney Castle was a place of family tradition, where every Willis family member’s birthday was celebrated in the backroom year after year, filled with amazing memories. One of her last memories there was celebrating her parents’ wedding anniversary on December 19, 2014. Knowing the restaurant was closing, the family decided to have one final gathering at Blarney Castle. Bongo came over and presented his Cubs clock to her mom, saying, from one diehard Cubs fan to another, that he couldn’t think of a better person to have it.

Ten Years Later, We Still Miss It
Every town has those places, places that feel like they belong to all of us. Places where memories were made, friendships were formed, and traditions were carried on.

Blarney Castle was one of those places.

Ten years after it closed, you can still hear people say, “Man, I miss that pizza.” You can still picture the neon sign glowing in the night. You can still remember the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the unmistakable ding-ding of that baseball arcade game in the corner.

Blarney Castle wasn’t just a restaurant. It was part of who we were.

And no matter how much time passes, it always will be.