To get a feel for the ebb and flow on one of Tucson's busiest and most enduring attractions, we spent a Saturday walking the aisles.
6:30 a.m. The gates have just opened for sellers and Bill Sharp is leisurely setting up his table, pulling tools, microwaves and coolers out of his car and arranging them — as he’s done for close to 40 years. He frequents auctions, sells antiques online, and brings the odds and ends he has here. “I always do good here,” he says. Swap meets are in his blood. “My father was into them, so I gave into it,” he explains. He shops as well as sells. Once, at the end of a day at the meet, he paid $10 for an unusual looking bassoon some kids were selling, and ended snagging $4,000 for it on EBay. “That doesn’t happen very often,” he says.
7 a.m. Not a lot of action yet. One vendor has decided to lay himself, rather than his merchandise, out on his table. He is stretched out, a light blanket over him, catching a few final winks.
7:30 a.m. More vendors trickle in, though none of the permanent shops have opened yet. Washing machines are being hauled out of trucks, clothes arranged. Justin Hill and his wife, Camila, set out her handcrafted accessories. Today is the Casa Grande couple’s first day at Tanque Verde. “We had heard traffic is really good,” says Justin as Camila pulls out bows, earrings and colorful tutus. The two are traveling vendors, stopping at crafts fairs around the state, and homeschooling their four daughters, who are still asleep in the van. There are few shoppers this early.
8 a.m. Ben William is going low-key with his vendor booth — setting out clothing, mostly children’s, and a couple of pairs of drenched-in-glitter high, high heels, on the hood of his car. He’s hoping the shoes are a big seller and snag $30 or $40 a pair. Are they his? “No, no,” he says with a laugh. “I’m a Nike man.” This is not a regular gig for the Safford resident. “I’m moving soon and wanted to get rid of some extra things,” he says.
8:15 a.m. Near William are Veronica and Daryl Johnson, who sit under a sunshade in front of a card table neatly stacked with Jehovah Witness publications. This is a regular weekend gig for them. “There’s a cross section of the community here,” says Daryl. “If we can’t reach people at home, we can reach them here.” The Jehovah Witnesses — there are shifts, and the Johnsons have the early one — have been coming here Fridays and Saturdays for almost two years. They stay into the night. Yes indeed, he says, people stop to talk.
8:30 a.m. Vendors are still looking over their competition as buyers start to trickle in. Wayne Turnage and his 8-year-old grandson, Alex Mitchell, prepare for the anticipated onslaught. Turnage has been selling his knives, stun guns and toy trucks at the swap meet for eight years. The variety of knives is astounding. “Gotta have a good selection,” he says. Turange buys his merchandise wholesale and turns it around for a profit — though Alex owns up to pocketing some of the merchandise. “I have a drawer full of knives,” he says proudly.
8:45 a.m. Bonnie Sarnelli has her minerals laid out on a table; the bed of her truck contains her overflow — rocks, pendants she makes, and a handpainted wooden dish set she says is from Russia. She’s hoping to pocket about $70 for that set. The Willcox resident has been selling at the swap meet for about 30 years. “There’s a lot of people, a lot of activity,” she says.
9 a.m. David Schwartz has squeezed about eight 6-foot-long tables into his space, each with piles of items — small appliances, tools, water faucets, toy trucks — if one is willing to prowl through the piles, you’re likely to find something you need, or think you need. A hand-painted sign says “huge sale, 50% off.” Those kinds of bargains are usually made toward the end of the day; it seems Schwartz doesn’t want to wait. “Tools are always a good seller,” says Schwartz, who has spent about every weekend of the last three months at the swap meet. He’s been to big swap meets in Phoenix. “This one’s a little better,” he says.
