For these vendors, the Minnesota State Fair isn't just business, it's a family reunion

Amid the noise and smoke of the Corn Roast, Brad Ribar takes a moment every day to look up at the grandstand marquee. It's a perfect view, he says, and he's been taking it in for well over 40 years. The Minnesota State Fair, and the roast, is his family's "pride and joy."

Ribar has spent a majority of his life at the fair, or at least thinking about it. His family's involvement in the Great Minnesota Get-Together goes back more than a century.

Every year his children, grandkids, cousins and friends flock back to shuck, roast, butter and serve ear after ear of corn.

"It keeps us really close," Ribar said. "We talk about the corn stand year-round."

Families like his, who have all caught the "fair bug," have kept many of the attractions and food stands running for generations. Fair officials say they don't keep track of the number of family businesses, but their influence is felt across the fairgrounds. They return year after year, sometimes taking time off their regular jobs to work some more, serving the huge and hungry crowds. For these vendors, the 12-day sprint isn't just about business — it's also a reunion.

"The Minnesota State Fair is all about families, and that is true for both our guests and the people behind the scenes who create the magic," said fair spokesperson Maria Hayden. "These family-owned vendors are integral to the fair's success with their willingness to invest the time and energy to the Great Minnesota Get-Together. We couldn't do it without them."

For some, like Carol Helmer of Fried Fruit and Olives, the family business is built on a lifelong dream of joining the fair. After 14 years of applying, Helmer finally landed a spot on the grounds in 2007 and cried when the trailer won outstanding new food concession.

She built her own fair family tradition, now with three generations working the fair every year.

"It is not easy some days, but we know we are in it together and have each other's back," Helmer said. They've seen fryer fires and downpours of rain. Family members, from St. Paul and Brainerd and Otsego, all crammed into a camper van during the fair. But Helmer said they all support one another even in the occasional chaos.

"I'm so grateful to be a part of the fair," she said. "It's really a community; we're all in this together."

Thousands of pounds of onions

Sisters Sheryl McGuire, Leanne Mear and Tracey Donnelly have a strict family rule, according to Leanne: "No pregnancies, no weddings, no nothing during the fair."

The sisters, who run the Danielson's and Daughters Onion Rings trailer and Route 66 Roadhouse Chicken in the food building, are too busy for such celebratory distractions.

The family's fair involvement started when their parents, Bill and MaryAnn J. Danielson of Maplewood, first opened a pizza booth at the fair in 1956, then the onion ring trailer in 1963. Eventually, Bill formally added his daughters to the sign and the business; all three have been working at the fair since they were about 9 years old.

They vote on everything, and each of them has her own role in the business. Tracey, of Woodbury, is the "cleaning lady," and works the night shift after the fair has closed; Leanne, of Lake Elmo, is the problem solver and day-to-day management; and Sheryl, of Oakdale, is the accountant.

For years, they all used vacation time to work the fair and their husbands stayed at home to watch the kids. Retirement made scheduling easier, but the sisters still like to keep the husbands mostly at home.

When both of their parents died, the fair was a place for the sisters to process their grief. They knew their mother's liver cancer was serious, Sheryl said, when she began leaving behind notes on fair finances.

Still, their mom worked the 2023 fair at 92 years old. She died in November, and this is the sisters' first fair without her.

When going through her mother's records this spring, "all of a sudden, I just started bawling," Sheryl said.

When their father died in 2007, the sisters had to figure out business logistics he had learned over the years, like how to order the 5,000-plus-pound supply of onions.

"One night I forgot to order the onions," Sheryl said, recalling her 3 a.m. panicked realization during the 2008 fair. When she arrived at the booth the next morning, their partners, Zuccaro's Produce, had brought them anyway, in a box labeled "Bill's onions."

Jim Zuccaro, owner of the four-generation family-owned business, told her just to call if they had any future problems. Sheryl now keeps a detailed spreadsheet.

"We will never forget what he did for us," Tracey said, adding that they'll never hire anyone else for their fair produce. "It's kinda like we're all family out here — everybody does help each other out."

Tracey sits on Bill's memorial bench during her night shifts and talks to her dad's photo, telling him the daily details of the family business.

'It's hard work, but it's fun'

Ribar's family also works various Minnesota county fairs and the Iowa and Wisconsin state fairs, selling cheese curds. But their only corn roast is in Minnesota.

"This is who we are," said Ribar, of White Bear Lake. "Cheese curds, that's just business."

The roast is a massive operation, selling over 250,000 ears of Minnesota corn each year with a staff of 180.

It's built on long family fair legacy.

Ribar's family began working at the fair in 1919 — the Libby Conference Center is named after his grandfather, James, and his great-uncle, John E. Libby, the fair's general manager from 1962 to 1976. Ribar began working as a paper-picker at 11 years old, and met his wife, Lori, heiress to the Peter's Hot Dog family, at the fair in 1978.

And family is at the core of the Corn Roast, with grandkids starting at the front counter at 8 and 9 years old. Ribar's two daughters, Livvy and Sarah, both work the booth, and his son, Matt, is a part-owner. Seeing them all in one place is one of the best parts. Even after 40 years, Ribar said it still feels new and exciting.

"This is like a summer vacation," Ribar said. "It's hard work, but it's fun."