For the dozen or so quilters sitting around the table at the Art Center in Kinston, the year could have been 1999, 1899 or even 1799. Though fabrics and styles change, the concept remains the same: these women come together to share a simple pleasure called quilting, much as people have done for centuries the world over.

Before each lady lay the particular project currently consuming her fancy, and as each held her needle creating tiny stitches, they took turns explaining to the group their most recent work. They call this "Stitch & Chat," similar to quilting bees of long ago. Their group, the Neuse Quilter's Guild, upholds a tradition older than eastern Carolina itself.

As the show and tell begins, one wonders how so many people, doing basically the same thing, succeed in creating so many varied works, with no two even close to resembling the next. In the hall, the Guild quilt exhibit is drawing to a close. There, majestic displays of dozens of quilts hang in colorful array, many done by the same women chatting here over stitches.

The essence of the quilt's mystique can best be seen in the theme of this exhibit. Called "Ugly Fabric Challenge," each entrant brought in pieces of the ugliest fabric she could find. This combined cloth was then cut into squares and issued equally among the members. The "challenge" was to create beauty from the ugly castaways, using at least thirty-five of the forty provided patches.

Yet, assembled for display at the Art Center, the resulting quilts proved exquisite enough for any art show. Participants were permitted to add some of their own patches to their work. Eleanor Rose Eubanks' brick wall pattern lap quilt included her comment, "After I was done, I couldn't pick out the ugly fabric!"

Sandy Porterfield created a coastal theme quilt of houses and boats, noting, "I added some nice fabric to the uglies. People looking at it point to the `nice' fabric and comment how ugly it is - I don't bother to explain." Indeed, this proves the secret quilters throughout time have always known - that stitching beauty out of ugliness is a matter of the heart, and the hands.

Just returned from a quilting symposium, Susie Whitmore shares tidbits of history from an English lecturer: how medieval women quilted layers of padding for their knights to wear under armor, to offer protection from blows of battle, as well as cushion them from the armored coat itself.

Dorothy Harrison has brought pails of fresh plums from her yard, as well as wild plums, "for anyone who wants to take some." She makes intricate patterns of stitches on a set of placemats and says "I may get finished someday."

Retired teacher Mary E. Mosely works on an appliqued sampler depicting different schools she has taught, complete with tiny school buses. She holds up her square and notes, "It needs some children. I'm going to add some little children playing, right here."

Historically, quilts pass from generation to generation, and most of these quilts will be given as gifts. Marie L. Stikes works on what she calls "convenience fabric," where a printed scene is quilted. Hers shows black and yellow labs for her daughter, a dog-lover. She lovingly quilts tiny dog biscuits and paw prints between the scenes.

Peggy Boccetti tags her piece "Peggy's Purple Passion." In true tradition, she let young relatives choose the patterns they liked, as well as fabric colors from her stash of swatches. (Witness family heirloom in the making.) Likewise, Mary Wertz sews a baby quilt for her great-great neice, while Francis Salt's baby quilt is destined simply for "the next baby I hear about."

Though these quilts are barely born, this region is rich in quilting history. East Carolina quilts date back before Civil War days, with typical patterns repeated in endless colors and combinations. During the Civil War, quilts were lovingly draped around the shoulders of loved ones as they headed off to war. Often, these never found their way back home, instead passed hand to hand, or found in battlefield, resulting in a quilt migration of sorts for those that survived the war.

Women found some comfort in the thought their quilt might be keeping their soldiers warm in some cold army camp far away. Frequently, the last touch of home might be the beautiful homespun quilt used as a shroud in hastily dug graves for the fallen on both sides.

Fabric became a premium commodity during the Civil War, and southern women in Union occupied territory were not allowed to buy goods or cloth unless they swore allegiance to the Union. Many did without their beloved calico rather than take the oath. In desperate need of material, they often took their quilts to sew together into tents for the Confederate soldiers.

One quilt, made by a mother whose two sons fought on opposing sides, contains strips of cloth from both Union and Rebel uniforms, perhaps her way of trying to patch back together her breaking heart!

A controversial school of thought holds the theory that quilts played a role in the underground railroad, whereby slaves received secret encoded directions to freedom from the placement of certain patterned quilts. Others contend the stitching, often done by slaves, created a map for escape off a particular plantation, and guide to safe havens along their journey. Since some African cultures incorporated knot-tying as a form of secret communication, some believe even the number of knots in a `tied quilt' held significant instructions for those who understood its secrets.

One theory went like this: Since slaves often were charged with the airing of quilts as part of their daily routine, a repeating series of quilt patterns, displayed draped on a fence or window ledge to air, gave pending runaways specific tasks to perform in readiness for their flight. The complete set consisted of each of the ten most common quilt patterns, displayed a few days at a time, until all ten patterns, or tasks, had been accomplished in order.

In the book, "Hidden in Plain View," authors Tobin and Dopbard set forth such examples as the Monkey Wrench pattern quilt, calling for the gathering of tools for the trip; the Wagon Wheel, for essentials needed to travel by wagon, and on until the last command quilt Tumbling Blocks, with its fluid motion, told them, "Go now."

While hotly debated in the quilting community, the notion makes for fascinating reading, nonetheless. Many runaways, wishing to give gifts to their final benefactors, gave their Canadian hosts the only prized possession they managed to bring, the quilt that warmed them on the long journey. Thus, southern quilts found route to the northern climes, adding yet another chapter to the novel of quilt history.

One of quilting's endearments lay in the fact that they were fashioned from what one had on hand, turning the practical into the beautiful. When Kinston teacher Lynnetta Baker Fields retired in 1980, her first project consisted of making a quilt. She tenderly sewed together over a dozen kitchen calendar towels, all from the early 80s. Visitors have so enjoyed it, she plans to quilt a tablecloth from other years' collections, as much for conversations the dates evoke, as for its usefulness.

Another joy in quilt creation lies in choosing a pattern to suit the occasion. Typically, it holds special meaning for the maker, and subsequent endeavors represent venture into more complex patterns. Fields' second quilt, the Lone Star pattern, ended up given to her sister, whose son moved to Texas.

Likewise, the University of North Carolina Press' "North Carolina Quilts," cites the story from the 1870s, of a northern surveyor on assignment in Greene County, who drafted a complicated quilt pattern for local quilt makers of the day. Becoming all the rage in the community, the pattern was dubbed New York Beauty, and remains treasured today for its detailed workmanship.

Area quilt expert Lynn Gorges, at New Bern's Battleground Antiques, has become renowned for her much sought skill in stabilizing and conserving quilts, as well as Civil War uniforms, flags, and antique clothing. In addition, she serves as a quilt consultant, tracing and dating the winding path to a quilt's origin.

"Dating quilts is fun," she explains, "because each one is a mystery." Since many quilts ended up far from their source both in distance and time, she draws from years of experience to trace each one to its "roots." Using a microscope and knowledge of which colors, fibers, and dyes existed at any one period, she tracks meticulously each homely beauty to its probable birthplace.

For her, the Alamance plaid quilts, from the distinguishing North Carolina fabric specific to the Alamance County area since the 1850s, posed a typical puzzle. This lovely, subdued plaid of browns and blues attracted her attention toward the beginning of her romance with quilts. Having played as a toddler beneath her grandmother's quilting frame near Goldsboro, she ventured to family homesteads in Wayne County to seek what she assumed would be plentiful collections of the plaids.

Sure enough, her grandmother's house held fine selections of the quilts, but exploring the next three homes, turned up not one more quilt. Clearly remembering how many quilts she saw made as a youngster, it didn't make sense her grandmother was the only one whose quilts survived. Intrigued, she pursued the "unsolved mystery" like a detective on the trail.

Gorges finally found her answer: "My grandfather didn't farm. He sold farm implements to all the tobacco farmers around us. It turns out, the Alamance plaid was so cheap, (about five cents a yard), that farmers used the quilts to wrap their tobacco to take to market! That's why Grandma still had her quilts, but the others had all been used to "get the tobacco in order," a process of wrapping the crop to keep it at the right moisture."

"My aunt recalls my uncle telling her, `You can always make another quilt, but you don't always have a good tobacco crop!'"

Lynn gently lifts a corner of a frayed quilt to reveal another secret. "See this? It's the cheesecloth type material they used to lay on the tobacco seedbeds to protect the sprouting plants. Once it wore out for that use, women used it as batting for their quilts. Nothing wasted. They used everything, and they used what they had. We called it `making do.'" She cites finding a ten pound quilt, its insides padded with World War II newspapers, curtains, and even a ladies' girdle!

Careful to avoid the term "restore," she explains that her goal is simply to prevent further deterioration of antique fabrics. Using long stitching, she slowly tacks down frays so no more raveling can occur. "All my stitches can be easily removed to its previous state. I merely stabilize."

She offers her own theory for the popularity of quilts in women's history: "Women worked all day, everyday. But nobody ever said, `Boy, you sure can scrub a floor!' Quilts were a way they could get recognition for what they did. It served as a creative outlet for their talents."

Back at the Kinston Art Center, Ruth Walker takes a break from her quilting by knitting a child's sweater to donate for world children relief efforts. She explains she added green to her white yarn because in some religions, white signifies death, so to make all white clothing would be unfit.

For an example of her quilt work, she walks out to the exhibit to point out a lovely patched quilt of gentle colors. "These are from those old feed sacks they sold full of grain. I found them in my mother's trunk, and wanted to put them in a quilt to keep. My mother had nine children. She put what she had in her quilts." Ruth typifies the heart of the quilt maker: giving, yet thoughtful, and practical, yet sentimental.

The morning now gone, the ladies prepare to go their separate ways. They wish to pay tribute to Regina Falkowski, one of the Guild's founders who died just before their first meeting. They know she would have enjoyed mornings like this, full of good company and good quilts. As the hours passed, many stitches inched across many quilts, just as they have across the ages. Without realizing it, they are making history, one stitch at a time.

Sources for this article included "North Carolina Quilts," by N.C. Press, "Hidden in Plain View," by Tobin and Dobard, "Southern Quilts," by Ramsey and Waldvogel, and personal interviews. Special thanks to Lois Sutton, president, and the Neuse Quilter's Guild. The Guild meets each Wednesday from 10AM to 12PM at the Art Center on Queen Street in Kinston and welcomes visitors.