Mulkey’s Restaurant in Rock Island Closes After Decades of Service

The smell of pressure-fried chicken still wafts down 14th Avenue, the linoleum still shines from seven decades of foot traffic, and the screen door still squeaks.

On Sunday, July 13, however, Mulkey’s Restaurant will distribute its final Styrofoam box before closing. In a nutshell, a handwritten sign pasted to the register,

“Thank you for 70 wonderful years.”

A gamble in a small shop in 1955

In Rock Island during the Eisenhower administration, Bob Mulkey, a short-order chef, purchased an eight-table cafe on the southeast corner of 14th Avenue.

In addition to purchasing a brand-new Henny Penny pressure fryer, he maintained the coffee at five cents. As a result of that choice, the city’s go-to Sunday meal was chicken with succulent meat and golden skin.

Chuck, Bob’s son, learnt the rhythm of the fry-timer and finally took over after cleaning pans after school. Ryan, Chuck’s boy, went the same way, demonstrating that in some families, starting at the bottom is the secret sauce rather than a recipe.

A Mulkey was constantly within earshot, refilling coffee, so diners never had to question who was in command.

The foods diners travelled across state borders to consume

People who frequent Mulkey’s boast that the chicken is “so crisp you hear it two booths over.” The platter was overshadowed by griddle-sized pancakes, full Mississippi catfish, and a hot roast-beef sandwich covered in brown gravy, but the bird shared the spotlight.

Upon consulting the Quad Cities visitors guide, tourists discovered that every item was precisely as described. No microgreens or Instagram fads—just comfort food.

Even though there were just 60 seats in the dining room, its renown transcended the ZIP area.

Men’s Journal referred to it as a “legendary family restaurant,” and Only-In-Your-State labelled it a must-see destination in Illinois after the shutdown news broke on social media in July.

By using new fryers in the 2000s, allowing credit cards in the 1990s, and outlawing indoor smoking in the 1980s, they managed to stay up to date without succumbing to McDonald’s.

The family opposed changes to the décor; according to a travel blogger from 2019, the space “looked exactly the way I remember it 40 years ago,” down to the booths.

In August 2024, after the pandemic disrupted eating customs, the restaurant switched to carry-out exclusively, relying on the chicken’s ability to move. The gamble paid off, but it also hinted at a slower pace that the owners eventually came to like.

Why close right now?

The parting The Facebook post makes no mention of supply shortages or rent increases. The words “The time has come to say goodbye” instead sound like a retirement letter.

According to family friends, food expenses have risen in the last ten years, and 4 a.m. prep times are more taxing when you’re in your seventies. Chuck and Ryan made the decision that they would prefer to depart on their own terms rather than break a 70-year tradition of reliability.

at order to give loyal customers the opportunity to spend one final night at their favourite booth, the Mulkeys reopened the dining room for eight nights.

During chicken dinners, a few high school sweethearts (now grandparents) acted out their first dates, and walk-ins placed notes beneath saltshakers. On the day of closing, the queue gathered before noon, and Ryan went outside to individually thank each and every guest.

Mulkey’s left a legacy that provided Rock Island with more than just full tummies. It set an example of kindness, tenacity, and the bold notion that focussing on your strengths can be a successful business strategy. Memories will not return when the neon sign fades.

Proposals for future pop-up fried-chicken nights have been made, and recipes have been drawn up for family and a select group of friends. Proof that a small Midwestern café may leave its mark on a community’s identity is the anecdotes that will continue to circulate even in the absence of a physical address.

It’s a small wonder to stay put for 70 years in a world of soft starts and fast exits. Three generations of the same family, including its own, were fed by Mulkey’s. Even if it’s the first Monday morning in seven decades that 3800 14th Avenue won’t smell of freshly brewed coffee, that seems like plenty to celebrate.

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