On a one-mile stretch of Federal Boulevard in West Denver, it might seem like something is missing.
Aside from a Taco Bell on one end, there’s a notable absence of corporate chains along the stretch of Federal from Alameda to Mississippi avenues.
There’s no Starbucks, no Buffalo Wild Wings and certainly nothing like a Modern Market Eatery.
Instead, nearly all of the businesses here are locally owned. Some have been passed down for generations. And they are a key reason that this part of town is known today as Little Saigon.
The center of the district is the Far East Center, a shopping center at Alameda and Federal that has become the center of Asian culture in Denver since it was founded by a family of Vietnamese immigrants in the 1980s.
“I grew up basically running around that plaza with my siblings and cousins,” said Mimi Luong, the eldest daughter of the Far East Center’s founding family.
These days Luong runs her family’s gift shop, Truong An Gifts. But for all their decades of success, she and many business owners in the district have a dilemma: Who will take over the family businesses that form the backbone of Little Saigon?
Families want the best for their children.
For consumers, Little Saigon businesses are a place to find cheap, authentic food or a place to find obscure goods. But, for many families, Federal Boulevard represented a much-needed opportunity.
While each business is different, the stories at their core are fundamentally similar — immigrants from Asian nations, most often Vietnam, came to Denver for a better life and opened small businesses serving other immigrants.
Many have made a good living ever since.
Ngân Ngô and his wife own Tấn Tài Alterations, a tailor at a strip mall on Federal and Mississippi that specializes in áo dài, Vietnamese formalwear made of fine silk. Their business is one of the few in Colorado that specializes in the Vietnamese garments and other Asian clothes made of similar materials.
Their two daughters are too young to take over the business, but Ngô and his wife have already made up their minds about the future of the shop. Since leaving their old life in a town near Saigon 20 years ago, they have found their daughters have “more chances and opportunities to do better” in the U.S.
“Parents love their kids to follow their footsteps, but I think that their freedom is more important than us,” he said. “They live their own life. If they want to follow this thing, we'll be happy. But if they don't want to and they love the job, the hobby that they follow, we support them.”
They’re not alone. According to a study from the peer-reviewed academic journal Family Process, only 30 percent of businesses are passed onto the next generation.
Some businesses already have a clear succession plan. Lauren Le, whose family owns Saigon Supermarket, said she tried to go the college route, but found it didn’t work out for her. Instead, she came back to work at her family supermarket.
She expects to take over the business when her parents retire, allowing her brother to pursue other avenues in life.
“We do want him to go to college,” Le said. “He can get into the trades or anything, but we just want him to live a life that he built on his own that we never could dream of doing.”
Running a family business often comes at a price.
While many of her family members and childhood friends have since left Little Saigon to pursue other careers, Luong made the decision to return to her family’s gift store business at the Far East Center — despite her background in fashion and makeup.
Luong had started her career running gift shops at various malls instead of working for her parents. But she found that was a huge time commitment.
“I was 22 to 25, and that was my prime time to party and hang out with friends,” she said. “And I never got the chance to really do that.”
She ended up closing the stores and returning to help her mom run Truong An Gifts. That decision allowed both of them to take time off, a rarity when Luong was growing up.
Eventually, she took on the mantle of the family business (and becoming the de facto leader of the Little Saigon district). But today, she acknowledges her two pre-teen sons might not take the same path.
“If they want to help me, they can, but I don't know what the lifespan of a gift shop would be, especially a mom-and-pop gift shop,” Luong said. “For me, I just want to teach my kids social skills, people skills, being responsible and having that skill to create whatever passion they want.”
Some who have left remember their family business fondly.
Luong's younger sister, Cici Strabbing, realized early in her childhood that the gift shop business wasn’t the right fit for her.
“All of my friends were getting together on the weekends, and then I was stuck at the store, and I think I felt like I was losing out on the typical American childhood,” Strabbing said.
Strabbing, who now lives in Austin, said she felt some angst in her youth about her family’s commitment to the business. She remembers having to go to her grandparents’ house after school because her parents had to keep the store open until 7 p.m.
But now, she has a new perspective on the business. Being a parent herself has changed her outlook on her childhood.
“[My mom] used to work 10-hour days and then still have to go home and cook dinner for us,” Strabbing said. “And it was reflecting on that and how I can feel that difficulty now just being a working parent.”
Strabbing now works in architecture. She reflected that without her parents’ business, she probably wouldn’t have had the means to pursue her career.
“When you look back on it now, they did that just so I could live that American dream,” she said.
Even if kids stay in the business, a diversifying Denver means they don’t have to stay in the neighborhood.
Little Saigon has always been known as the place to be for good Asian food in Denver. But lately, that’s been changing.
Recent ventures outside the neighborhood, like MAKfam on South Broadway and Sắp Sửa on East Colfax, have been recognized nationally for serving high-quality, innovative meals while keeping sight of their heritage. Nana’s Dim Sum & Dumplings has quickly become a multi-location hit, with the restaurant expected to open its 7th location later this year.
Duc Huynh, whose family owns Little Saigon staple Vinh Xuong Bakery, decided to open his new cafe, Dandy Lion Coffee, outside the district in Northeast Park Hill. For him, it was simply a business decision.
“From a business standpoint, do people down off of Federal want craft coffee or not?” he said. “If I could find cheap rent on Federal and I knew that I was going to be successful, then I would totally consider opening up a shop down Federal, to keep that idea [of Little Saigon] going.”
Huynh also pushed back on the idea that Little Saigon needs to stay “authentic.” He pointed out his family business is far from authentic — bánh mì sandwiches were invented in Vietnam due to French imperialism.
He said as long as the next generation of business owners — whether they’re new to the district or have familial ties there — are true to themselves, the spirit of Little Saigon will continue.
“If it's an evolving idea, culture,” Huynh said, “I don't see the problem of the area evolving with it.”
Editor's Note: A previous version of this story had instances where Mimi Luong's and Duc Huynh's names were misspelled.
