When this week began I looked at the weather forecast and saw that it would be hotter than the dickens on market Wednesday. Normally that wouldn’t bode well for bread sales, but I expected Smittybread might get a boost from a nice feature article about our soon-to-open bakery in the local newspaper, so I made a little extra of everything.
Unfortunately a dangerous thunderstorm dashed our hopes for a banner market day. Before the opening bell at 3:30 p.m., a horn sounded warning us of an approaching storm. We covered the bread with a tarp and were preparing to ride out the storm when the market master ran past telling us the West Lafayette fire chief had assessed the situation and was ordering everyone to abandon their tents due to the possibility of lightning strikes. My assistants and I lowered the EZUp shelter to its lowest setting and made for our vehicles.
It was raining buckets as I sat in my SUV and stared at the weather radar on my smart phone. I craned my neck to see how my tent was holding up when suddenly I heard the sound of rain through an open window and felt cold drops on my neck. I looked up and saw the moonroof slowly opening. My head had hit the opener! I quickly hit the
“close” button but not until after the storm had left a damp impression inside the cabin. I was already soaking wet so it was no big deal. Luckily my computer was safely inside its carrying case.
While waiting out the storm I received an email informing me the market was officially closed. I knew from past experience an official closure didn’t mean we had to call it quits. It simply meant we were on our own with no official sanction from the market organizers.
After an hour or so, the rain let up and I returned to check out the tent and salvage what was left of our baked goods. Luckily, several large pockets of water on the roof of the EZUp helped hold it down in the driving wind. After emptying the water pockets I raised the shelter roof to see what had survived the storm.
The baguettes, poking up from a basket on top of the display table, were safe and dry under one end of the tarp. However, the other end of the tarp had blown up and over the table, exposing many of the loaves to rain spatters. Still, most of the bread was sellable.
Because many vendors had packed it in, I was able to park my SUV next to the stall and move the dry bread inside in case the storm returned. Despite social media announcements that the market was closed, customers started showing up in twos and threes. Realizing it was now or never, my buddy John and I marked down the bread, croissants and pretzels to “second-day” prices, and pretty soon we had a steady stream of customers.
By the end of the day, counting after-market sales, we had sold nearly $400 worth of bread. That was better than some days when the weather was cooperative. The next day I had a few loaves left, some of which I sold and several of which I donated to the local soup kitchen. All in all it was a memorable market experience. Peace and bread!