Since 1997, Broadacres Marketplace has been a staple in North Las Vegas. A place where families gathered, music played and small businesses thrived.
But today, its gates are shut. The sounds of music and bustling crowds have vanished. In their place: silence, uncertainty and over 1,100 vendors left without a place to sell or a clear path forward.
The closure came suddenly on June 21. That day, Broadacres management issued a brief statement attributing the shutdown to “fear and uncertainty” in the immigrant community amid a reported increase in U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) activity in the area. Since then, the once-busy marketplace has remained closed with no timeline for reopening.
For one longtime vendor who declined to give their name, out of fear of ICE retaliation, the loss has been personal and painful.
“Personally the closure has affected me. I’m also a street vendor, that’s my livelihood for now, which is still very slow,” they said in Spanish. “But we have to go out and work, even with the fear that we can be detained in the streets, by immigration, the police or the health department.”
This vendor, who has spent much of their life selling in Las Vegas, saw Broadacres as their most stable income source, especially with a spot located near the market’s popular stage area. Despite not being able to currently sell, they still pay monthly rent for the location, which includes electricity and storage.
“It’s a set location, but I don't own it. If I don’t make the rent they can take my space away and sell it again,” they said.
The fears that led to Broadacres’ closure haven’t faded. Even before the shutdown vendors said they noticed fewer customers and a tense atmosphere, especially following federal immigration crackdowns.
“We’d experience those moments thinking immigration could arrive, and that was the scary part. Not just for me, but for all our customers,” the vendor said. “Sometimes as a Latino, you tell yourself, ‘I’m going to go out.’ But, then you change your mind. There’s always that voice saying, ‘No, don’t go.’ That fear lingers.”
Beyond the financial loss, many vendors are grappling with a deeper emotional impact. For this vendor, Broadacres was a community space as much as it was a workplace.
“There are women I know who came to Broadacres just to dance every week,” they said. “They would tell me, ‘I’m afraid, but I came to support you.’”
Still, they understand why the market closed. Safety, they said, must come first. But, as a seller, it doesn’t make it any easier for them financially.
“Some people can keep selling on social media, depending on what they sell. But not me. I can’t bring everything home,” they said. “I have to leave merchandise at the market. So now we wait. We wait to see what Broadacres tells us before deciding what’s coming next.”
The closure’s economic ripples are also likely to extend well beyond the marketplace’s tents.
Dr. Nic Irwin, research director and associate professor at UNLV’s Lee Business School, said closures like Broadacres can deliver long-lasting blows to local economies, especially in a state like Nevada, where many small businesses rely on in-person customer interactions.
“You could see a significant drop in spending amongst some groups,” Irwin said. “That's consumption that is funding local restaurants and other local vendors. Then it sort of builds the snowball effect where you could see additional closures or additional reduced hours and fewer people working. It can create a really negative drag on a local economy.”
For now, Broadacres’ future is still in limbo. But its vendors aren’t standing still. Many are setting up tables on sidewalks, trying to market products through Facebook or leaning on word-of-mouth sales.
They’re hustling. They’re adapting. They’re holding onto hope that the place they once called their second home might reopen.
