tony labua – C-VILLE Weekly

Street heat: Downtown storefront owner battles vendors

In a progressive town like Charlottesville, the owner of a 31-year-old business on the Downtown Mall says it’s time that equivalent rules and regulations are imposed on downtown storefronts and street vendors alike. His request comes in the form of a petition.

“We’re a fast city, man,” says Tony LaBua, the owner of Chaps Ice Cream. “Let’s make it fair.”

While it varies widely, depending on the building and its use, downtown brick-and-mortar business owners can expect to pay between $18 and $22 per square foot a year in rent, along with fees for electricity, water, sewer and other accommodations, according to Chris Engel, the city’s director of economic development.

That adds up to quite a bit more than the $250 per quarter that most street vendors are required to pay, says LaBua. An extra, say, $200 per month from the vendors, might level out the playing field, he suggests.

Even though he says he “love[s] having vendors on the mall,” the “one-man band,” LaBua, plans to start knocking on Downtown Mall doors in the coming weeks to gather signatures for his petition, which says vendor fees should be increased. He has already gathered a few from people walking by his restaurant.

LaBua will then present the petition to City Council, under the guidance of Downtown Business Association of Charlottesville Co-Chair George Benford, who says his organization is not taking a stance on the matter.

Hearing of the petition for the first time, several downtown vendors refused to comment, but mentioned that business has declined over the years and tighter restrictions on their operations have already been imposed.

“I couldn’t afford to do this if I had to pay more,” says Nym Pedersen, who sells original artwork in a shared assigned space in front of the fountain on the Downtown Mall.

While there are currently 17 assigned locations for vendors paying $250 per quarter, only 11 are actively rented, according to Engel. And 19 unassigned locations are filled by 10 nonprofit organizations, which pay $25 per year, and nine other vendors who pay $50 less per quarter than those who set up shop in an assigned location.

The city’s Commissioner of Revenue’s Office collects a $125 peddler’s license from vendors and says they should be collecting and remitting sales and use tax to the state, just like storefronts. The two food vendors, who declined to comment, must also pay the same monthly meals tax—5 percent of gross receipts—to the commissioner.

“For a lot of the vendors, this is their livelihood,” says Pedersen.

While Pedersen has largely sold his art on the weekends for the past three years, those walking down the mall on any given day will notice a scad of vendors offering colorful scarves, knit hats, sunglasses, jewelry and incense from morning until night.

Vendors don’t pay for amenities like water or electric because they don’t have the luxury of using their own restrooms—or even setting up in a dry space when the weather is bad, Pedersen says. Because the mall already caters to “big businesses that can stomach a lot of fees,” like chains such as CVS and Kilwins, Pedersen adds that Charlottesville is gradually losing its small-town feel.

“My own personal mission is to promote my work and to sell art that is affordable,” he says. “We provide a lot of flavor to the mall.”

American hero: The Greatest remembered in Charlottesville

After Muhammad Ali moved to a farm in Nelson County in 1982, it wasn’t that unusual to spot him on the Downtown Mall, and his local connections remained even after he moved away. The boxing and civil rights legend died June 3 at age 74.

Ali planned his funeral several years ago with the help of his Charlottesville lawyer and friend of 30 years, Ron Tweel, who is making arrangements for his funeral in Ali’s hometown of Louisville, Kentucky.

Tweel’s daughter, Jennifer Kelly, grew up with Ali and his fourth wife, Lonnie, as regulars in her parents’ house—and as role models.

“When we were little,” says Kelly, “Dad would talk about how powerful [Ali] was, how he gave up years of his career for what he believed and that’s how people should act.”

Shortly after defeating Sonny Liston for the heavyweight title in 1964, Ali, born Cassius Clay, changed what he called his “slave name” and announced he was a Nation of Islam convert.

He was stripped of his heavyweight title in 1967 when he refused to be drafted to fight in the war in Vietnam, and he memorably said, “Man, I ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong.” He explained, “Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go 10,000 miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?”

The U.S. Supreme Court overturned his conviction in 1971—after he’d lost four prime fighting years.

ali&kelly-kerner — Ali and Jennifer Kelly at Maya. Photo Will Kerner

Kelly also is an admirer of Lonnie. “They were a powerful couple,” she says. “She is a formidable, smart, generous, strong woman I look up to.”

The last time Kelly saw Ali was in October 2014 at her husband’s restaurant, Maya, and she remembers him watching a clip of his fight with Joe Frazier.

“I knew him as this powerful person who stood up for what he believed,” she says. “I feel so fortunate that Lonnie and Muhammad have been a part of my life. He’s influenced so many people.”

In a statement, Kelly describes Ali as “a boxer and a man fighting for civil rights as well as battling Parkinson’s. He was a fighter. But more importantly he was a lover. What I observed is that he approached everything in a deep foundation of love.”

For Chaps Ice Cream owner Tony LaBua, who grew up on Long Island, where boxing was big, and who did some boxing himself, Ali “was just our boxing idol,” he says.

LaBua bought a book by Ali at a yard sale and knew he was a friend of Tweel’s. One day the attorney was in Chaps buying pints of ice cream and LaBua said, “Next time the Champ’s in town, ask him if he’ll sign my book.”

“‘He’s in my office right now,’” LaBua remembers Tweel saying. He went to Tweel’s MichieHamlett offices, and the attorney said, “‘Champ, I’ve got your biggest fan here,” says LaBua.

Ali signed the book. “He looked at me and said, ‘That’ll be $5,’” says LaBua, who has photos of Ali in his restaurant. LaBua joined in the joke and said, “That ice cream cost $12. Your attorney ran out without paying. You owe me $7.”

ali-tweel2 — Muhammad Ali and Ron Tweel with a reproduction of the Olympic gold medal he won when he was 22 years old that was given to him when he lit the Olympic torch in Atlanta in 1996. Photo courtesy Jennifer Kelly

Tuel Jewelers’ Mary DeViney says when he lived in the area, “You’d see him all the time.”

She saw a philanthropic side to Ali when she was chair of the multiple sclerosis TV auction sponsored by the Jaycees. “We’d get old boxing gloves and he’d sign them,” she says. “He didn’t have to do that. He would give back to this community. He did it so the money would go to research. That’s being part of the community.”

Adds DeViney, “In Phoenix or wherever he was, I bet you’ll find these same stories.”