Here's how it happened.

Since 1978 Joan Sides has been the unpretentious, steadfast, almost invisible force behind Richmond, Virginia's Big Flea show. Often filling four large buildings on the state fairgrounds with antiques, collectibles, and even vegetables and new metal detectors, Sides has provided a diverse shopping opportunity for the budget-minded treasure hunter.

With the success at Richmond she expanded to other Virginia locales: Roanoke, Virginia Beach, and Hampton. In October 1996 she created a bigger Big Flea at Richmond, the American Heritage Antique Jubilee. But aware that many of her customers were driving a couple of hours from the Washington area, Sides sought to bring her market closer to them. In 1996 she tried the Montgomery County fairgrounds in Gaithersburg, Maryland. She advertised it as an antiques and collectibles show, not a flea market.

On the map the location appears ideal. But unattractive old buildings, muddy grounds, awkward parking, and a concealed location caused Sides, like other promoters before her, to get out of Gaithersburg quickly.

Still determined to tap into the lucrative Washington-area market (population 4.7 million), Sides switched sides of the Potomac and picked the Capital Expo Center in Chantilly, Virginia. Located 15 miles from the Washington beltway, near Dulles International Airport, the area is still largely rural and undeveloped. But it's northern Virginia, demographically home of many of the highest-educated, best-paid professionals in the area.

The Capital Expo Center is a pair of 107,000-square-foot buildings with plenty (3000 spaces) of free parking. Opened in October 1995, the privately owned facility has hosted shows for home and garden, recreation vehicles, Civil War collectors, cars, boats, golf, and fine antiques. Until the D.C. Big Flea hopped into town, only Sha-Dor offered antiques at the Expo Center, with dealers specializing in high-end goods.

The Expo Center's sales director, Rick Savino, said the management strives to maintain diversity and avoid oversaturating the public with similar events. He said a protection period before and after a show guarantees promoters that nothing similar will be booked 60 days before and after an event. Once a show is booked, promoters have the option of keeping the same date indefinitely.

Joan Sides decided to rent the North building for the weekend of January 10 and 11 of this year. Its ceiling is 24é high rather than the 27é of the South building, and it's a little brighter because of skylights. Over 600 spaces were marked off and offered to dealers at $80 each, a bargain rate for a Washington show. Hundreds of dealers signed up, willing to take the chance on a first-time event with no history of success. Some dealers took a risk and rented four and five spaces. The real possibility of poor attendance due to a sudden snowstorm did not deter anyone.

As the show began to take shape during setup Friday afternoon, it became clear that the first D.C. Big Flea was looking very little like a flea market. Most dealers were exhibiting real antiques and collectibles. Yes, there were Beanie Babies, but there was also jewelry, sterling silver, crystal, and furniture priced in the thousands of dollars.

No one knew what to expect on the clear, cool opening morning. The stage was set, the huge building filled, and dealers mingled and made nervous small talk. Some had traveled from New England, others up from the Richmond area. Only when a few dealers went out to their vehicles for last-minute items or a cigarette did they return with news of what would later be known as "the line." Joyously, after years of inconsistent shows, dealers were about to get hit, and hit hard.

A column of buyers four-deep stretched up the sidewalk, around the building, and up the next block past the North building, a quarter-mile from the Flea's front door. Once the line started moving, it took over an hour for those at the end to reach the entrance. A second door and ticket counter were quickly opened to accommodate the overflow and take the $3 admission. Thousands entered that first hour, and it never let up.

Declining to reveal exact head counts, Sides said, "Just say tens of thousands of people filed in on Saturday. It was the best one-day attendance I've had in twenty years in the business."

"I was totally blown away by that line and that she had that kind of crowd," said local promoter/dealer Dordy Fontinel, who was running a smaller, upscale show up the road at the Leesburg Armory. Fontinel said her attendance was uncharacteristically off on Saturday, but her dealers did well on Sunday. With the opposite situation at the Flea, it appears many buyers attended both shows, and both shows benefited.

Although promoters of five other Expo Center events hire a Washington public relations firm to handle publicity, Joan Sides and her small D'Amore Promotions staff do it all themselves. Not one to skimp on advertising costs, Sides spread the word on radio, television, cable, and large and small newspapers. The antiques trade papers ran ads, and dealers were given cards to circulate.

The unexpected mob crammed aisles and packed booths. "My only complaint was that I couldn't ever get a cup of coffee or anything to eat," said Pennsylvania dealer Karen Nevins, who sold 1930's-50's accessories. "We almost sold out—this is all we have left," said Karen Laniewicz of Richmond, pointing to a dresser and armoire and a large empty space in her booth. "We came with two trailers of restored antique furniture. People weren't afraid of spending big bucks." She said her prices ranged from $100 to $2400.

"It was definitely not a flea market, it was an antique show," said Pennsylvania dealer Jim Barker, who sold advertising and vintage toasters. "There was something for everyone. I'm very pleased. I did well, and I'll do it again."

To do it next time may be difficult for those who missed the first one. Dealers were quickly signing up for the next D.C. Big Flea shows, scheduled for July and August. But July is not January, and no one knows if the line will form again.

In Washington, D.C., where position, power, prestige, and big paychecks are the lifeblood of the city, promoters for years have given the area a steady diet of what they thought people wanted: high-end, big-ticket antiques shows. No respectable promoters have dared use that dreaded four-letter f-word, "flea," for fear of their reputation.

Joan Sides saw an opening for an alternative to the expensive and upscale, proving regardless of one's personal taste and station in life, there's just something fun about a flea market.

"I feel like it was a triumph in the Washington area because the customers loved it," she said. "They continually commented how much they needed a show like this. I just haven't experienced so much excitement and enthusiasm before."