At the May 2025 meeting of the Warren City Council, a number of routine municipal issues were addressed—budget updates, infrastructure repairs, and upcoming projects. But the most significant moment came not from a councilmember or the mayor’s report, but from a concerned citizen: Doug Thornton, owner of Redneck Gourmet, speaking out on behalf of Warren's small but vital food truck industry.
Thornton’s address, backed by fellow vendors and community members, centered on a newly enacted ordinance requiring mobile food vendors to pay a $250 quarterly fee—amounting to $1,000 annually. As Thornton noted, this is the highest fee of its kind in Southeast Arkansas, and it raises an urgent question: Is Warren regulating an industry, or inadvertently eliminating it?
Thornton posed a fair and fundamental inquiry to the council—were any local food truck operators consulted before this ordinance passed? The response, or lack thereof, was telling. Mayor Gregg Reep reminded the chamber that the session was not a public hearing, and councilmembers chose not to engage. This silence speaks volumes about the disconnect between policy-makers and the people most affected by their decisions.
The ordinance, according to local vendors, is not only disproportionately expensive compared to surrounding communities (Monticello’s annual fee, for example, is just $100), but it also imposes limitations on operating hours, prohibiting vendors from opening before 10 a.m. This restriction alone would force breakfast-focused operations to close—or never open in the first place.
The council may have intended to bring order and structure to a growing part of Warren’s food economy. But what they’ve enacted threatens to do the opposite. The local food truck scene is more than just a handful of mobile kitchens—it’s an entrepreneurial ecosystem. These small businesses contribute directly to the local economy, sourcing goods from local grocers, generating sales tax revenue, and offering residents affordable, diverse dining options.
As one vendor noted, if he leaves Warren due to this ordinance, he’s not just taking his truck with him—he’s taking the dollars he spends locally at places like Supervalu and Mad Butcher. Multiply that impact across multiple vendors, and the city stands to lose far more than the $1,000 per vendor it hopes to collect.
Mayor Reep reported at the same meeting that although the city’s budget is in “decent shape,” overall revenue is down for the year. With tight cash flow, every dollar matters. Chasing away businesses—especially those with low overhead and high community engagement—is not a strategy for long-term fiscal health. It’s self-defeating.
Moreover, the spirit of the ordinance contradicts Warren’s own mantra: “Come grow with Warren.” As Thornton poignantly put it, “We’re going to grow right out of town.”
It is not too late to act. The City Council should re-open discussion on the ordinance with urgency and transparency. They should consult directly with food truck operators and local business owners. They should benchmark fees against similar cities and adjust accordingly. And they should reassess the logic behind restrictive operating hours that make no economic or practical sense.
A vibrant, diverse, and locally rooted small business community is the heart of any city. Warren cannot afford to push it out over a poorly considered policy. If the city is serious about growth and sustainability, then it must show that it is willing to listen, learn, and adapt.
Warren’s future doesn’t lie in punitive fees or bureaucratic hurdles. It lies in collaboration, inclusion, and smart, community-informed policy. It’s time the council course-corrects—before it drives an entire industry out of town.
