For family, street vending goes back generations
Each morning, as thousands of San Antonians head to work, the Villarreal family hitches a trailer to its red truck and piles fruit and firewood in it.
The Villarreals have been street vendors in San Antonio for 35 years. Alyssa, 18, and her brother Anthony, 25, are the third generation to keep the tradition alive.
Alyssa sets up her stand on Roosevelt Avenue on the South Side, while Anthony sets up his on W.W. White Road on the East Side. Once she arrives, she heaves her watermelons, cantaloupe and wood out of the trailer. Bin by bin, she neatly displays them for customers. Watermelons are the crowd favorite in the summer, and as temperatures get colder, wood becomes the top pick.
Street vending is the Villarreals’ sole source of income. By the time they turn 10, children start working and learning the family business.
Monday through Wednesday, the family is in the Rio Grande Valley picking fruit and wood.
But sometimes, after the fivehour drive, they walk into the large field that’s supposed to be filled with watermelons and cantaloupe, only to be told there’s
few left because stores such as Walmart have bought most of them.
“Sometimes, our watermelons go to rot, but most of the time our
fruit is really good,” Alyssa said. “We work hard for our fruit.”
Back in San Antonio, Alyssa sells the haul Thursday through Sunday. Many customers are regulars
who return again and again — those are Alyssa’s favorite.
When business is slow, she watches Netflix on her phone or tidies up the stand. She labels the
wood in the bin and makes sure the shade covers the watermelon and cantaloupe under the tent.
Occasionally, Alyssa has to deal with unhappy customers. Once, an angry customer knocked all her watermelons to the ground.
Each sale helps the family get one step closer to paying a bill, buying groceries and covering the cost of gas to drive to the Valley and back. If customers are scarce, Alyssa might not get paid.
This past year, Alyssa, who was a senior in high school, occasionally missed classes while she helped her family. Sometimes, it was a core class; other times, soccer practice.
“No one would be here to help my brother, so I would go,” she said.
When 5:30 p.m. arrives, Alyssa starts packing up her stand, loading any unsold fruit and wood back onto the trailer. As the sun begins to set, she waits for her dad to bring around the truck.