PEORIA MAGAZINE July 2022

“We kind of called it a little clubhouse,” Thompson said. “If it didn’t work out as a bar, we’d at least have a cool place to hang out.” But it did work out as a bar, from the moment Psycho Silo opened in 2015. The laid-back feel and attitude, along with the garage-wall look and nighttime country and rock shows, lured in curiosity-seekers. Soon, word crackled through watering holes and other spots throughout the area: “Have you heard about Psycho Silo?” “We called it a biker bar initially,” said Roggy, 53, who owned a body shop in Princeton when he joined Thompson in creating Psycho Silo. “I would say it morphed into kind of an adult Disneyland.” That’s not to say kids don’t dash about the wide property, especially in early afternoon. As for grown-up patrons, many sport white hair. “My mom comes out every weekend,” Roggy said. “She’s 80. She comes outwith her girlfriends, and they’ll have lunch.” The food operation is manned by Thompson’s parents, Rick and Sue. Orders move fast, as do the drinks – in part because it’s cashonly (though there’s an ATM on site). Most beers and drinks go for amere $3, another reason patrons come back. Another is to check out décor theymight’vemissed thefirst timeor two. “You can tell when newbies come, because they’re all looking up, and they’re wandering around,” Roggy said.

“They’ve got their cameras out. They don’t know what to make of it.” That description fit Laura Oggero, 50, on a recent Friday. She motored up from East Peoria to take her initial glimpse of the place. “I’d seen a lot of pictures on Facebook. It looked really cool, so I decided to check it out,” she said, sipping on a Miller Lite as her head turned to and fro amid the surroundings. “I’ll definitely be back.” Faces old andnew invariablymake fast friends and add to a rousing din, even when an early-afternoon head count is just a dozen or so. The camaraderie comes by design, as the bar has no TVs. You can either look around or chat. Most visitors do both. There’s often something new to see. From the original deck, Thompson and Roggy have extended the layout repeatedly. An auxiliary deck is shaded by a vintage single-engine plane bought from a salvage yard in Rockford. On another deck, beers are served from a bar fashioned from a school bus hauled in from Nebraska. There’s plenty more in storage, a semi-trailer load waiting for the next expansion and exhibition over the plentiful acreage. Meantime, Thompson and Roggy often function as docents, pointing out doodads and their histories. “You can never see it (all) in one trip,” Roggy said. “You could walk through three times and see different things.”

Sometimes, Roggy will turn salesman, if the need arises. “It’s kind of like a swap meet,” he said with a smile before pointing toward a gas can festooning a wall. “A guy needed a gas cap, off that one gas tank. I sold it to him for, like, 25 bucks. He put his bike back on the road that way.” Stories like that have been shared, further spreading the word of Psycho Silo. Many visitors – including a huge portion of the thousands of bikes that fill the place for concert nights – zoom in from out of state. Business has boomed to the point Thompson and Roggy have quit their day jobs to focus on Psycho Silo. ‘I DON’T KNOW HOW TO TELL YA…A JUNKYARD MEETS A BAR MEETS AN OLD CORN CRIB’ Dave Roggy Thompson credits the site itself as part of the draw. Psycho Silo is close to Interstate 80 and accessible by other routes. But once there, you feel as if in far-flung oasis. “It’s easy to get to,” Thompson said, “but we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Phil Luciano is a senior writer/columnist for Peoria Magazine and content contributor to public television station WTVP

JULY 2022 PEORIA MAGAZINE 23