There are funny stories about men and women whose surnames end up being curiously connected to their hobbies or professions. Someone whose surname is Bones, for example, becomes an orthopedist. Or a Cook who becomes a chef. Then, there is the world’s fastest runner, Usain Bolt. There’s even Larry Speakes, who was a spokesperson for President Ronald Reagan. So how ’bout a guy named Binger who ends up loving and collecting Singers? Thousands of them.
As we shared in Quiltfolk, Issue 31: Oklahoma, WK Binger is the caretaker of the Vintage Sewing Center and Museum in Tulsa, otherwise known as “The M.” He fell into this world by accident a few years back, and he now runs a beloved place where visitors can see a thousand different vintage machines. And not only can visitors see them, but they can also sit down and sew on any machine they choose. During his Quiltfolk interview, WK told us so many great stories that we decided to extend his article into a journal post and give our readers a deeper look at the man and his machines.
WK is a repairman with a Midas touch, and his customers adore his unique approach to restoring these old mechanical machines. Here’s a priceless example. One day, a man walked in with an odd story about a Singer sewing machine he had purchased for his wife for their wedding in 1957. The customer explained that the machine had meant the world to his wife and she had sewed clothes on it for the whole family. In the late 1990s, their granddaughter asked if she could have the machine to sew clothes for a new baby. The grandmother said okay, but only if she promised to take really good care of it—after all, it was her wedding present.
Years later, the grandparents went to their granddaughter’s home for a visit. They peeked around, looking for the machine, but could not find it. Eventually, that beloved Singer was located outside, in the dirt, behind the garage. The couple was so infuriated that they left immediately. They could not even bring themselves to pick up the machine and take it home. Instead, the husband went to see WK alone and asked him to take on an extremely unconventional assignment—go to the granddaughter’s house and steal the machine.
WK thought long and hard about this. Knowing what this machine meant to this couple, he felt compelled to do it. But first, he wanted to present a certain amount of panache when he went to reclaim the machine. He dressed in his Sunday best, but didn’t want to show up in just any old car. He wanted something stylish, so he decided to fire up his vintage Mercedes and drive it over there in broad daylight.
As he pulled up in the driveway, the granddaughter and her family were sitting on the front porch. WK nodded, didn’t say a word, and headed for the garage. He found the machine and case, picked it up, and started walking back to his car. There were shrieks from the family, until it dawned on them that he had been sent on this mission by the grandparents.
When he got the machine inside his shop, WK discovered that, unsurprisingly, it was in bad shape. But over time, he has lovingly restored it, and he plans to return the now fully operational machine to the owners for their 67th wedding anniversary.
WK is a modern-day hero, partly because of his willingness to take on unconventional assignments, but also because of his fearlessness to do what’s needed—even when it involves extreme personal danger.
Here is a case in point. A few years ago, WK bull-rushed an active shooter in Tulsa, and in the process, he was shot in the face. The shooter was threatening people at a local restaurant run by folks who are WK’s friends. “I just thought, if I bull-rush him, what are the chances of him killing me?” he said.
Yet another time, he heard someone outside the museum stealing his truck, so he ran outside, followed the guy as he drove away, and caught up to him. “I can run fast, like a gazelle,” WK said. He yanked the man out of the truck and tied him up with a belt until the police came. Strangely, that incident got him thinking about the atmosphere outside The M, and ultimately, it inspired him to create a large metal entryway sculpture, crafted from old machine parts and swirling wrought iron pieces once used on treadle machine frames and sewing cabinets.
The entry arch of the Vintage Sewing Center and Museum, made of sewing machines!
The outdoor piece is purely decorative, not a security measure. In fact, WK says he’s not too worried about security. People don’t usually steal stuff—he actually has the opposite problem. Oftentimes, when he shows up for work, he finds old machines sitting on his doorstep. Sometimes, they are just left there anonymously; other times, they are donated with stories about their owners.
One day, he and a volunteer were walking around The M, and they kept finding vintage sewing machine oil cans on the shelves. These weren’t part of the collection, and WK had no idea where they came from. He took to his Facebook group to post about the discovery, and the donor soon fessed up to leaving them as gifts.
But for WK, the most important things in The M are not the priceless machines and all the sewing stuff—it’s the gifts that his young students have made for him as thank you’s. When he set out to create this museum, he asked a lot of questions and listened intently to what sewists had to say. He heard over and over, “We need to get young people sewing.” So, he’s done exactly that.
The calendar at The M is chock-full of classes for kids and teenagers, and even adults. WK teaches pretty much everything about sewing, including how to sew leather, how to free motion stitch with the feed dogs down, and, of course, how to clean and care for a machine. He likes to challenge young people by putting them on the most advanced industrial machines first to see where they can go and to expand their ideas of sewing.
His instructions even extend beyond sewing, into areas such as laser etchings and spray painting—but he won’t let students take a color straight out of the bottle and use it. Rather, he teaches color theory and how to mix paints, so they can create their own original colors.
While repairing old machines and returning them to the individuals who cherish them is extremely satisfying for WK, it’s the things he teaches the kids that he is most proud of. He treasures the time he has with young students. He especially loves to expand their intellectual curiosity and, hopefully, along the way, leave them with a contemporary appreciation for sewing that will carry the next generation of sewists forward.
Teresa Duryea Wong is a writer, quiltmaker, and antique quilt collector as well as a member of the International Advisory Board of the International Quilt Museum. Learn more on her website.
Sign up for our newsletter to receive exclusive offers, news, and more—plus get a free quilt pattern!
