The messy jumble of tools scattered across Bill Warlick’s workspace hardly seems the sign of a master craftsman. But watching the wiry, soft-spoken sewing machine repairman as he deftly finds any tool his hand seeks, you soon see the confidence he’s accrued over 30 years of doing this work.

I got a hint of this when I first spoke with Warlick on the phone and asked if I should bring the instruction manual for the 55-year-old Necchi Supernova BU all-metal Italian sewing machine I had recently picked up on Craigslist.

“I can probably write a better manual than the one that came with it,” he answered.

After spending an afternoon with the Warlick, I believe him. Operating out of the sun room of his Dundalk home, Warlick may be the last sewing machine repairer left in Baltimore – undoubtedly the last with a working knowledge of the many models produced around the world in his lifetime.

“Just about everybody I run into says ‘I am glad I found you!’,” said Warlick.

He’s pretty matter-of-fact about being one of a dying breed, a relic of a time in Baltimore when more people made things — housewives made clothes at home and workers in the city’s factories, shipyards and industrial plants made raincoats, tin cans, cargo ships and Chevrolets.

Now, though, a new generation of seamstresses and fashion designers and do-it-yourself-ers are starting to produce clothes and crafts for themselves or for online market places like Etsy and Folksy, or for the numerous Baltimore-area craft fairs that have popped up in recent years. And they’re discovering that, as the quality of modern electronic sewing machines has declined, repairing a vintage mechanical machine is oftentimes their best bet.

“The older machines that are all metal hold up a lot better than the newer plastic ones,” explained Warlick. “I can fix pretty much any mechanical machine, but I run into some problems that I can’t fix in the electronic ones because of the cost of the boards.”

Even then, he can fix them, but he explains that it is often cheaper to send them back to the manufacturer or just get a new one.

This kind of knowledge was just what I was seeking.

Sewing Machine Salvation

My quest to find a repair man (or woman) began when I decided to get my craft-oriented girlfriend a sewing machine. A bit of research online revealed something I already feared:  new sewing machines pale in comparison to the all-metal ones built during the heyday of housewives and hand-made clothing. So, instead of picking up a plasticky computerized model, I did what any self respecting 21st century consumer would do: I found an ancient one on Craigslist.

The vintage gleaming chrome, beige, and olive all-metal Italian Necchi sewing machine cost me just $80. I was thrilled to find that — after its terrifyingly cracked and worn power cord was plugged in — the machine sprang to life, plowing through cotton like it was 1955. But despite my optimism, something was amiss. The machine wasn’t pulling the fabric forward, and this was causing it to bunch up. Fifty years in the attic had left the machine in dire need of a tune up.

My online search led me to Warlick.

From Industrial Work to Home Repair

A lifelong Dundalk resident, Warlick got his start sweeping floors in a textile factory and then became a bundle carrier. After successfully fixing up his boss’ truck one day, the mechanically-minded Warlick was asked if he would take over as the factory’s sewing machine repair man — despite never having fixed one before.

“They showed me two machines,” Warlick said, “and in two months time I had it down.”

He continued with industrial sewing machine repair until 1999, and the following year went into business for himself. He has never advertised, and primarily finds work by word-of-mouth. This is made abundantly clear at his home, where the only signage is a small faded piece of printer paper in the porch window that says “Sewing Machine Repair.” Still, people find their way to him.

“Some weeks I don’t get any machines at all, and others I repair around six or seven of them,” said Warlick.

He explains that his industrial work started to dry up as clothing manufacturers began to move abroad for cheaper labor.  Inexpensive clothing meant people were sewing less at home. Today, with fewer people bringing in their machines, Warlick has started taking classes to get his real estate license, though he expects he will still be able to find time for his repair customers.

When customer Dolores Kerr drops by to pick up her sewing machine it becomes clear why. Kerr’s first question isn’t about how much she owes, but instead whether Bill was feeling better. When she dropped off the machine the week before, Warlick’s blood sugar was low, and Kerr wanted to make sure he had gotten it back under control.

Luckily, both Warlick and his customer’s serger (a sewing machine used to form strong seams) were back in good health. After seeing her repaired machine in action, Kerr (another Dundalk native) went on to say how much she appreciates Warlick’s mechanical talents.

“My god, I wish I had met Bill a couple of years ago,” she said.

After she left, Warlick explained that he has many such repeat customers, who bring in their machines to be tuned up and repaired a couple of times a year.

New Life for an old Necchi

In the case of my 55-year old Necchi Supernova BU, Warlick returned it to like-new condition and even added a few improvements. For him it was pretty routine work.

“I go through the machine and I check the timing and the tension, I clean and oil ’em, repair any broken parts,” he said.

Warlick replaced a faulty pedal and the Necchi’s broken and cracked wiring that posed a serious risk of electrocution. He oiled the machine and included a bottle of sewing machine oil to keep it running smoothly in the future. And he switched out the sewing foot that may have been causing some of my original problems. I was prepared to wince at the total cost of both parts and labor, but was amazed when it rang up to $55.

It was so satisfying. For around half the cost of a modern-day electronic sewing machine I had managed to salvage a mid-century workhorse that, with decent care and an occasional tune-up, will very likely outlast me and outperform most new machines. What I appreciated most, though, was discovering the treasure trove of skills and knowledge and hard-earned intelligence that Warlick has collected over three decades.

People may read this and bring in all kinds of obscure sewing machines and mysterious problems, but I have a feeling Warlick will be able to fix whatever they throw at him.