Selling icy desserts offers life lessons to some, life raft to others
The bottom line for some local street vendors of summer treats is to keep cash coming in
Antonia Rueda waits for the days her grandkids visit to open the snowball stand in front of her Marquette Park eatery, Neveria La Poblanita. Inside she sells Mexican food, but if the snowball stand is what gets the four kids involved, she’s happy.
“I teach them to do it, that way they can learn to rely on themselves. They never have to ask someone for money. They never have to come to me for money,” said the 60-yearold grandmother from Puebla, Mexico.
The small-business owner lets the kids keep what they earn; but, often, she or her youngest daughter — their aunt Rocio — helps out. Located kitty-corner to the park, weekends can be busy, and Rocio said she often runs inside and out to serve customers.
The flavored syrup-covered ice desserts are a refreshing way to cool customers down on hot summer days while offering enterprising salespeople a chance to earn extra cash. It may be pocket change for some, but for others, the money helps tide them over until times get better.
Her first summer selling snowballs, Kim Simmons of Garfield Park keeps it simple by only selling the summer treat. The 59-yearold has been out of work since a debilitating back injury a few years ago and started selling snowballs to cover costs between disability checks. “This is my way of staying above water,” she said.
Getting started took about $100, she said, between the styrofoam cups, straws, syrups, ice and a cooler. Earnings are small, she said, around $60 per day.
“Not a lot of money, but it’s something to do and sell other than something illegal,” she said.
She recommended that newcomers buy as many flavors as possible. “They’re going to always ask for a color you didn’t get,” she said.
Nearby, on West Lake Street, Darnell Moore was ready for that scenario. A man coming off the CTA looked over Moore’s stand and asked him, “You got green?” not seeing it among the chips, cookies and other snacks Moore laid out. “Yes, sir,” Moore says.
“Green apple, right?” the man responds. “That’s right,” Moore says, pleased to not disappoint.
Moore has sold snowballs on and off for years, learning it from his mother and grandmother. But after being laid off from his warehouse job last December, he is coming out more this year, trying to sell on Lake Street for at least a couple hours whenever it’s hot.
“Only reason why I’m doing it right now is I don’t have a job. Until somebody calls me for work, I got to make some kind of income,” said the 58-year-old.
Back in Marquette Park, Rueda is still waiting on her 10-year-old grandson to arrive. He said he would come, but she’s doubtful. After asking their grandmother to set up the stand, they have learned it’s not easy.
“‘Grandma, I’m tired,’ ” she says they say. “Tired? But you just got here,” she says. She smiles and shakes her head. “Now they get to understand how it is to really work,” she says.