A Town Built on Trust, Not Scale

When Daily Scoop shut its doors after more than two decades, it wasn't for lack of customers. It was rent. A 45% hike, quietly delivered two years after the building changed hands, pushed one of Clarendon Hill’s most beloved businesses past its limit. For owner Chuck Kaufmann, the heartbreak wasn't just financial-it was personal. And in Clarendon Hills, that distinction matters. This is a town where businesses thrive not through flash, but through familiarity. Still, many don't last. As a high schooler, who has lived in this town my whole life, losing the Daily Scoop wasn’t easy. Working there was my first real job experience and I’ll never forget it. Growing up, I ran a small lawn-mowing business with my best friend, and now I work at the Little Creperie with the amazing staff there. All of my experience in this amazing town has led me to the question : What does it take for small businesses to survive in Clarendon Hills?
Most people assume the businesses that last are the ones that grow the fastest— expanding their footprint, hiring more staff, reaching more customers. But in my town, the ones that endure do something different.
They scale down. They simplify. They stay small, not because they lack ambition, but because they've learned that survival here depends on a different kind of leadership— one built on trust, flexibility, and restraint.
Over the past two months, I spoke with more than a dozen business owners in the heart of our downtown.
Some had just opened; others had been there for decades. Many had weathered recessions, relocations, even generational transitions. Others were quietly winding down or unsure whether their model could last another year. What I found wasn't a lack of passion or effort, it was a pattern of structural strain, softened only by those willing to adapt with humility.
In a town like mine, rent is high, foot traffic is uneven, and visibility can make or break you. More than one owner told me they lost customers simply because people didn't know they'd moved—or thought they'd closed entirely. A few referenced the same locations that had cycled through business after business. Some described the slow erosion that comes not from failure, but from fatigue: the cost of doing everything yourself, of relying on high school or seasonal staff, of showing up every day without the safety net of scale.
And yet, a few are making it work. Not by outgrowing their problems, but by working within them. I spoke with the founder of Joelle’s Hallmark Shop, who told me how his family-run business has lasted nearly 50 years by staying "right-sized"— downsizing during economic downturns, shifting inventory away from seasonal fads, and resisting the urge to expand. Amy Scott, the owner of the boutique, Curated By Amy Scott, keeps her shop afloat by hosting art classes and curating local vendors, not because it maximizes profit, but because it keeps the space personal. Linnea Lones, the entrepreneur who created Just Lift, built her gym around a long-term model that prioritizes trust, education, and community partnerships over flashy advertising. None of them lead from a distance. They lead by being visible, vulnerable, and present.
Now, I’m not saying that just by staying small every business will survive. Look at the Daily Scoop. They did almost everything right and led the way in terms of personal connection to our community and the people in it, yet they still left. Sometimes, it simply isn’t in our control.
What they have in common isn't a killer marketing strategy or a genius product idea. It's something more difficult: they've figured out how to bend without breaking. They've let go of the fantasy of scale, and instead, they've committed to the slow work of staying relevant, one customer at a time.
That kind of leadership is easy to overlook. It's quiet. It doesn't go viral. But after hearing these stories, and watching some of these places disappear, I've started to believe it's the kind of leadership that actually lasts.
So, what can Clarendon Hills taxpayers and residents do? Start by thinking local first. Before you click “Buy Now” or drive to the mall, check if someone in town already offers what you’re looking for. Support fair rent policies. Maybe the village could look into other ways to incentivize long-term leases, cap increases, or provide small business relief. Rent shouldn’t be the silent killer of community institutions. And above all, show up. Not just for the grand openings, but for the slow days, the in-between seasons, and the shops tucked down side streets. Because in a town like ours, every purchase is a vote for the kind of community we want to keep.