When you step into the SPUR sewing room on a Wednesday morning, you’re greeted by the comforting hum of sewing machines, bursts of laughter, and the bright swirl of cotton fabrics — superheroes, Paw Patrol, polka dots, and florals stacked high on tables. It smells faintly of starch and coffee, and it feels like home.
At the center of the cheerful chaos stands Brian Lamoreau, the organization’s tireless director of volunteer engagement.
“I don’t know how he has time for anything else,” Kimberly Nothnagel, director of communications and community relations, said.
Between managing the Pop-Up Pantry and overseeing hundreds of volunteers, Lamoreau somehow keeps SPUR’s many community efforts running smoothly and smiles while he does it.
But today’s focus is on fabric.
These volunteers are creating something deceptively simple: handmade pillowcases. Yet each one represents comfort, dignity, and care for the 600 local children and adults experiencing homelessness who receive them every holiday season.
The project began about seven years ago, when SPUR volunteers realized that the gifts they distributed to families in need could use a softer touch.
“We used to wrap gifts in plain cotton pillowcases we bought in bulk,” Nothnagel explained. “Then someone said, ‘Hey, we love to sew. What if we made them fun?’”
Now, each pillowcase is handcrafted by volunteers who meet weekly, alternating Mondays and Wednesdays, for two-hour sessions filled with chatter, color, and creativity.
“We buy some of the fabric, but much of it is donated,” Nothnagel said. “When JOANN’s, the local fabric store, closed, we bought out their clearance racks. And people drop off material all the time — yard-sale leftovers, attic finds, even entire bolts.”
The fabric arrives in all shapes and patterns, and volunteers transform it into bright, themed pillowcases that match each child’s wishlist item.
“If a girl asks for a Minnie Mouse doll,” Nothnagel said, “we do everything we can to make sure she gets a Minnie Mouse pillowcase, too.”
At the long cutting tables, Lynda Hare and Judy Connor work side by side, measuring, trimming, and pinning.
“We’ve been doing this for seven years,” Connor smiles. “We were friends before we started volunteering here.”
Nearby, Brenda Sheridan guides fabric under the needle of a vintage sewing machine that looks straight out of a time capsule.
“All our sewing machines are donated,” she said. “We’ve never bought one.”
Linda Duvel demonstrates what she calls “the burrito method” — rolling three layers of fabric together so that the seams come out clean and sturdy.
“We finish them with French seams,” she explained. “That way they won’t unravel after being washed 100 times.”
Across the room, Natalia Goldwasser, a recent UMass graduate, is pinning her first pillowcase.
“I’m studying for the MCAT right now,” she said. “Volunteering gives me something positive to do for the community while I’m home.”
Around her, longtime volunteers chat easily — about birthdays, recipes, grandkids, and fabrics.
“It’s like a quilting bee,” said Susan McMullen, laughing. “It’s primal to be in a circle of women, sewing and talking. It makes you feel good.”
For some, sewing is just the start. Tam Cronin also volunteers at the Salem Food Pantry, while Pam Kentley divides her time between SPUR and Root in Salem, where she prepares produce for community meals.
“I cut up about 500,000 apples last week,” Kentley said with a laugh.
Others come for the camaraderie.
“It’s all about connection,” Duvel said.
Each pillowcase becomes more than packaging for a child’s gift.
“A gift bag gets tucked away,” Nothnagel explained. “But a pillowcase? That’s something a child sleeps with every night. It’s a reminder that someone out there cares.”
As the holidays near, SPUR transforms into a hub of organized chaos. Volunteers sort wish lists, match gifts, and wrap nearly 600 bundles of cheer before Christmas.
“After Thanksgiving, it’s a mad dash,” Nothnagel said. “Between now and then, I’ll probably sleep about four hours total.”
But despite the long days, he insists it’s worth it.
“It’s essential, especially now, to bring the community together to help those in need,” he said. “You see the faces of the partner organizations picking up the gifts, and you just know the impact.”
Back at the sewing tables, the laughter continued, and the sewing machines hummed on. Fabric becomes pillowcase; pillowcase becomes comfort; and comfort becomes community.
As Conner put it, “You find a special kind of person who wakes up and says, ‘Today, I want to do something for someone else.’ That’s who you meet here.”
