Can local volunteer popups fix it? Yes, they can

One by one, neighbors carried the broken things of Hennepin County into the Fix-It Clinic.

A burnt-out toaster. An old typewriter. A hair dryer on the fritz. A sewing machine with a wonky bobbin. Hopeful owners crowded into a makeshift workshop in a Robbinsdale church, bearing broken vacuum cleaners, splintered sculptures, snow blowers and stand mixers. Someone lugged an entire screen door into the room — the last stop before garbage day for some of these objects.

"I just don't want it to go into the landfill," said Anna Beal of Minneapolis, sitting at one of the many workstations in Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church, watching as volunteer Dave Purdham carefully traced the circuits of her 20-year-old air purifier.

Hennepin County has hosted these free repair clinics for more than a decade, but this was Beal's first visit to one. Around her, sewing machines hummed and floor lamps flickered and nearly everyone was smiling.

Bailey Maurer, age 9, proudly brandished an electronic game that hadn't worked in years — until she and one of the volunteers worked together to get it beeping again.

"It felt really good," said Bailey, who had come to the event with her father, Nick and 6-year-old brother Parker, and a summer's worth of fun to repair — including a camp chair and a laser tag game. "I didn't know to fix it. But when I realized how to fix it, I thought, 'Oh, I can fix things!'"

Nancy Lo, a waste reduction specialist for the county, pitched the idea more than a decade ago, after reading about a similar program in Amsterdam. Within six months, teams of cheerful volunteers were getting the county's broken blenders blending again. Similar fix-it clinics now operate across the Twin Cities metro.

She knew the fix-it clinics would do good. She didn't know they'd be so fun.

"What I didn't realize," Lo said, "was that there were going to be so many of these wonderful human, emotional connections between the volunteers and the person bringing in their broken item."

There's no sign-up for these clinics. Neighbors just show up with broken snowblowers and high hopes.

There's a lot of talent at a Fix-It Clinic. Engineers, crafters, electricians, hobbyists, mechanics. They can't repair everything, but Lo estimates the clinics have fixed 83% of the broken things that come through the doors and saved thousands of items from the landfill.

"We like fixing things. It's in our DNA," said Tom Johnson, a fix-it volunteer and retired engineer who used to design appliances for companies like Maytag and Honeywell.

Sometimes people bring a family heirloom or an object with real sentimental value to the Fix-It Clinic. But they also bring everyday household items. Things they use, things they like, things they don't want to give up without a fight.

"One person brought a lamp," Lo said. "They said, 'This is just a lamp I got a Target, but I love the size of it and I love the way it looks. It does exactly what I need it to do and I don't want to lose it.'"

There are things in this world we can't fix. But maybe you can fix that lamp you like. Maybe you'll find out how great it feels when you do.

"The best thing is at the end, when we plug the thing in and it works," Johnson said. "People's eyes light light up. We say, 'You did that! You fixed it!' It's very satisfying."

At Betty Ingram's sewing machine, torn seams come together again, trousers are hemmed and people who never held a needle and thread learn how to sew a button.

One woman brought in a beloved pair of Harley-Davidson ankle boots, marred by a decorative zipper that had lost its pull. Ingram was able to attach a new one. A small fix that brought great happiness.

"Oh my gosh, she was jumping for joy and hugging everybody in sight," Ingraham said. "It was just so exciting."