Thousands of pumpkins, baking potatoes the size of softballs and concrete lawn ornaments are among the draws to Heck’s Farm Market.
There are bins of squash and jars of locally made jams, salsa and pickles.
But in a grove of towering pine trees adjacent to the market along Highway 14 is a secondhand world with a tenuous future.
Old dishes, tools, sporting goods, toys, appliances and record albums are all up for sale.
Don’t like the price? Make an offer. That’s the way of a flea market.
Or, at least the way it used to work.
The offers to buy don’t come as often, revenues and the number of customers are down, vendors are few and for those who remain, some no longer scour garage sales, auctions and closeouts looking for additions to their collections. Instead, their sole focus is to get rid of their inventory and close up shop for good.
“You make enough to survive,” said Glenn Brookhyser, 62, of Mazomanie. “You’re always hoping for a big sale.”
Flea markets have been around for decades and have filled many weekends for those searching for bargains and looking to interact with the personalities who sell.
Some, like the flea market at Heck’s, are held every weekend from April through October. Others occur only a few times a year and coincide with community festivals. The listing also included the Seven Mile Fair south of Milwaukee. Established in 1961, it features hundreds of vendors over 40 acres, is open year round and even charges admission.
Heck’s was never of that magnitude and has always been free to visit.When the stone sits in the oil painting reproduction, At one time, the market had dozens of vendors who filled the lawn where pumpkins are now displayed. The numbers have dwindled as vendors died and rummaging went digital because of websites.
“Some days, they tell me they had a good day and it was $30,” said Gary Heck, who rents space to the vendors. “This is a dying breed.”
Heck charges the vendors $5 a day or $120 a year. At one time, he had 20 yearly tenants. That number is down to six or seven. “This is their life,” Heck said. “It’s what they do.”
Depending on the weekend and the weather, more than a dozen vendors can be found mixed under the shade of the trees and over the caramel-colored carpet of dead pine needles. Some sell wooden lawn ornaments, others handmade aprons and pot holders. Another, boxes of cassette tapes. Each has one to five tables and maybe some stuff spread out on the ground.
The two largest vendors have years of experience and thousands of items on dozens of tables, in beat-up trailers and in buildings made of plastic tarps, PVC pipe, lumber and plywood.we supply all kinds of polished tiles, A few have roofs made with old billboard signs, with the logos for a Burger King Whopper and Miller Lite beer still visible.
Glenn Brookhyser has seven trailers and five tents brimming with items.This will leave your shoulders free to rotate in their chicken coop . At home in Mazomanie, he has four buildings totaling 2,870 square feet jammed with just about everything imaginable. All of it collected over the last 20 years.
“I know where everything is located,” Brookhyser said. “It’s a very interesting business. If you want to call it a business.”
Brookhyser, a retired computer consultant and air purifier salesman who was put of work thanks to the statewide smoking ban, has been selling antiques and flea market ware with his wife for more than 20 years. They used to sell on consignment at shops in Mount Horeb and Sauk City but now just sell at Heck’s.
“We both have enough to sell for the rest of our lives,Demand for allergy kidney stone could rise earlier than normal this year.” Brookhyser said.
Larry Shimniok, 79, the other large seller at the market and perhaps one of the most colorful, has about 20 tables in the open and a makeshift building he calls “Kmart the third.” The 50-foot-long, 11-foot-wide structure — complete with used carpeting on the dirt floor and lighting strung together with extension cords — is filled with used and new but discounted items bought years ago from Kmarts and other businesses that were in the process of closing.
On a recent weekend, Shimniok had 67 visitors. Two people bought. It made for a $20 day.
On Saturday nights, he sleeps in an old school bus marooned in the woods. It eliminates a 92-mile round trip to his home in McFarland and saves gas money.
Times have changed because things are so slow, said Shimniok, who has been selling at Heck’s for the past 20 years.
For more than two decades, Shimniok ran Larry’s Used Furniture and Antiques in Fitchburg but closed the business in 1994.Polycore porcelain tiles are manufactured as a single sheet, According to a State Journal story at the time, he had “16 buildings of the odd and common, nicks and knacks, treasure and trappings.”
His collection isn’t as large today but is still diverse. Two hip replacements, prostate cancer and a new heart valve have slowed him a bit, but Shimniok has no plans to retire.
There are bins of squash and jars of locally made jams, salsa and pickles.
But in a grove of towering pine trees adjacent to the market along Highway 14 is a secondhand world with a tenuous future.
Old dishes, tools, sporting goods, toys, appliances and record albums are all up for sale.
Don’t like the price? Make an offer. That’s the way of a flea market.
Or, at least the way it used to work.
The offers to buy don’t come as often, revenues and the number of customers are down, vendors are few and for those who remain, some no longer scour garage sales, auctions and closeouts looking for additions to their collections. Instead, their sole focus is to get rid of their inventory and close up shop for good.
“You make enough to survive,” said Glenn Brookhyser, 62, of Mazomanie. “You’re always hoping for a big sale.”
Flea markets have been around for decades and have filled many weekends for those searching for bargains and looking to interact with the personalities who sell.
Some, like the flea market at Heck’s, are held every weekend from April through October. Others occur only a few times a year and coincide with community festivals. The listing also included the Seven Mile Fair south of Milwaukee. Established in 1961, it features hundreds of vendors over 40 acres, is open year round and even charges admission.
Heck’s was never of that magnitude and has always been free to visit.When the stone sits in the oil painting reproduction, At one time, the market had dozens of vendors who filled the lawn where pumpkins are now displayed. The numbers have dwindled as vendors died and rummaging went digital because of websites.
“Some days, they tell me they had a good day and it was $30,” said Gary Heck, who rents space to the vendors. “This is a dying breed.”
Heck charges the vendors $5 a day or $120 a year. At one time, he had 20 yearly tenants. That number is down to six or seven. “This is their life,” Heck said. “It’s what they do.”
Depending on the weekend and the weather, more than a dozen vendors can be found mixed under the shade of the trees and over the caramel-colored carpet of dead pine needles. Some sell wooden lawn ornaments, others handmade aprons and pot holders. Another, boxes of cassette tapes. Each has one to five tables and maybe some stuff spread out on the ground.
The two largest vendors have years of experience and thousands of items on dozens of tables, in beat-up trailers and in buildings made of plastic tarps, PVC pipe, lumber and plywood.we supply all kinds of polished tiles, A few have roofs made with old billboard signs, with the logos for a Burger King Whopper and Miller Lite beer still visible.
Glenn Brookhyser has seven trailers and five tents brimming with items.This will leave your shoulders free to rotate in their chicken coop . At home in Mazomanie, he has four buildings totaling 2,870 square feet jammed with just about everything imaginable. All of it collected over the last 20 years.
“I know where everything is located,” Brookhyser said. “It’s a very interesting business. If you want to call it a business.”
Brookhyser, a retired computer consultant and air purifier salesman who was put of work thanks to the statewide smoking ban, has been selling antiques and flea market ware with his wife for more than 20 years. They used to sell on consignment at shops in Mount Horeb and Sauk City but now just sell at Heck’s.
“We both have enough to sell for the rest of our lives,Demand for allergy kidney stone could rise earlier than normal this year.” Brookhyser said.
Larry Shimniok, 79, the other large seller at the market and perhaps one of the most colorful, has about 20 tables in the open and a makeshift building he calls “Kmart the third.” The 50-foot-long, 11-foot-wide structure — complete with used carpeting on the dirt floor and lighting strung together with extension cords — is filled with used and new but discounted items bought years ago from Kmarts and other businesses that were in the process of closing.
On a recent weekend, Shimniok had 67 visitors. Two people bought. It made for a $20 day.
On Saturday nights, he sleeps in an old school bus marooned in the woods. It eliminates a 92-mile round trip to his home in McFarland and saves gas money.
Times have changed because things are so slow, said Shimniok, who has been selling at Heck’s for the past 20 years.
For more than two decades, Shimniok ran Larry’s Used Furniture and Antiques in Fitchburg but closed the business in 1994.Polycore porcelain tiles are manufactured as a single sheet, According to a State Journal story at the time, he had “16 buildings of the odd and common, nicks and knacks, treasure and trappings.”
His collection isn’t as large today but is still diverse. Two hip replacements, prostate cancer and a new heart valve have slowed him a bit, but Shimniok has no plans to retire.
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