The Quilt Bus

by Marti Attoun

The Quilt Bus winds its way for an hour on a lonesome two-lane road through the Heldeberg Mountains, then parks at the firehouse in the hamlet of Glen, N.Y. The local sewing guild meets here and . . . it’s not quiet anymore.

“We’re so excited in there we can’t stand it,” squeals Carol Dingman as she steps into the bus. Her eyes widen as she tries to see it all—a crammed, top-to-bottom complete fabric store on wheels.

Mary Jo Rave gasps behind her. “Oh, there’s the Yellow Brick Road pattern that all of us want.”

One by one the women step inside and smile as they run their hands over the bolts of cotton fabric. Patterns and notions swing from cup hooks on and over the bus windows. Crates stacked sideways display 400 quilting books. Bags of batting peek from cubbyholes. It’s enough to make a quilter swoon.

“We all want at least a yard of everything,” says Dingman, 56, of Fort Plain, N.Y. (pop. 2,288). “Where I live, it’s a half-hour to buy a spool of thread. It’s so frustrating.”

Quilt Bus owners Kris and John Driessen of Esperance, N.Y. (pop. 2,043), love catering to stitchers in these speck-on-the-map towns. They’ve driven their store to a church retreat in Hebron, Conn. (pop. 8,610), a firehouse in Fallston, Md. (pop. 8,427), and the Sisters’ Snack Shack in Triangle, N.Y. (pop. 3,032). They’re invited to sewing and quilt guild meetings, libraries, museums, historical societies and festivals across the United States. As long as the sponsoring group has a space to park the 37-foot-long bus and a meeting room where Kris can spread out quilt pieces and talk, they’ll go.

“The strangest place I ever gave a lecture was in the break room at a convenience store,” Kris says with a laugh. “We just really try to be an asset to the guild.” She clusters bus stops in the same area so sponsoring groups can share their mileage fee. The groups often open to the public and charge admission to recoup their costs.

While John sells thread, thimbles, rotary cutters, and quilt patterns in the Quilt Bus, Kris leads a workshop and has a repertoire of classes, including a “no whining quilt” that is impossible to bungle, the history of feedsack fabrics, and a roundup of how-tos for making prairie points, thangles, and 3D geese patterns. Both Driessens are quilt historians and appraisers and give tips on determining the age of a quilt and caring for antique quilts.

“I’ve been doing quilt restoration since I was a teenager, but didn’t know it,” says Kris, 49. “I just called it fixing old quilts for people. When I couldn’t find the fabric I needed for repairs, I started buying old quilts to take apart and used the fabric. Taking apart old quilts teaches you a lot about construction methods and tools.”

The Driessens opened the Hickory Hills Quilt Shop in their home and went online with the business in 1994. Two years later, Kris founded the Quilt History List so quilt fanatics could share information electronically. Quilters were one of the first special-interest groups to take advantage of the Internet, she notes.

An impulse purchase

The bus was “the largest impulse purchase we ever made,” Kris says. “John and I were in our van discussing the problem of getting our inventory back and forth to the shows and saw an old beat-up school bus for sale on the side of the road.”

The couple stopped to look it over, fired it up, wrote out a check, and drove it home. They outfitted the 1977 bus with wooden bins to corral bolts, rods to display quilts, cabinets, and a counter. They painted the bus beige with green trim and hung a quilted banner on the side that announces “quiltbus.com.” They’ve since bought a 1991 flat-nosed bus, which gives them more room.

“I get a lot of waves,” says John, 51. “Sometimes the husband will be driving and I’ll see their brake lights go on. They’ll wait until I pass and the wife is furiously writing down our name.”

Once they stopped at a service area for Kris to run in for coffee. When she returned, the Quilt Bus was in full swing.

“A tour bus pulled in and the women just went straight up and onto the bus. Normally when women catch sight of the bus, you can’t stop them,” John explains. “They walk in and it’s like ‘oooh.’”

That’s the case with Mary Jo Rave, 52, of Fonda, N.Y. (pop. 810), who has an armful of tiny floral prints.

“I’ve been collecting 1930s reprints for a while and you’ve got a great selection,” she tells John, who measures and cuts the fabric at the counter in the back of the bus. The Driessens’ daughter Kelli, 16, runs the register.

“I just did a shop hop in the East and you have more right here,” Rave declares.

Debbie Miller, 45, of Amsterdam, N.Y. (pop. 18,355), can’t resist the fabric with a moose theme.

“If you live way out, where else do you go?” she asks. “We don’t have a quilt shop. Plus, this bus is so personal. You meet the people who run it.”

Thread of kindness

That personal connection has always been an integral part of quilting, from quilting bees to sewing guilds and swapping patterns, Kris says. Before printed patterns appeared in the early 1900s in newspapers, “someone would draft a pattern and send it to you. Women in the West kept in touch with women in the East.”

The Driessens found out firsthand about the generosity of quilters when they lost their log home and most of their possessions in a house fire in July 2002. They’re rebuilding on the same foundation. Antique quilts and a collection of old fabrics, some from the 1850s, were lost. Kris says she was embarrassed when she learned that a friend had posted their tragedy online. It still brings tears when she thinks about the kindness of friends.

Within a few days, quilters donated $1,200 so she could buy a computer and get her business back online. Friends donated quilts and fabric and individuals made and signed quilt blocks to be assembled into a quilt.

“That quilt will be prominently displayed in my new home,” Kris says. “The outpouring from the quilting community was just overwhelming. I still get about 10 e-mails a week from people and phone calls wanting to know how we’re doing.”

The Driessens continue the thread of kindness through the Quilt Bus website where their “good news” network lets clubs announce their charitable projects and materials needed.

By the time the parking lot empties at the Glen bus stop, fading sunlight trims the mountains. John tips up the crates of books, lids containers of needles and thread, and secures cabinet latches. He removes the blocks from under the wheels while Kris rolls up the flag that’s been displayed on the front of the bus.

She draws back the quilt hanging on a rod at the front of the bus. It’s been hiding the driver’s seat.

“The most fun part of this is that everyone who climbs on the bus smiles,” Kris says.

They’re smiling, too, as the Quilt Bus heads down the road.

Marti Attoun is a regular contributor to American Profile.

first appeared: 3/21/2004