After firing repeatedly into a tight knot of his classmates, fourteen-year-old Michael Carneal laid his stolen .22 Ruger semiautomatic pistol calmly on the school lobby floor. He killed three classmates including his best friend, and wounded five others in less than ten seconds. The facts are simple, indisputable: On December 1, 1997 at 7:30 in the morning, Michael Carneal, Padacah, KY, a sophomore at Heath High School, began shooting into a group of students just completing a voluntary, daily, before-school prayer meeting.

Paducah is a close-knit river town at the confluence of the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers. The nearby riverways serve as a switching station for the endless barges that bring the heartland's products up and down the rivers to the Gulf of Mexico. There are more navigable waters in this than any other area of the US.

The Museum of the American Quilter's Society and the AQS Quilt Show acts as a magnet for Paducah, attracting upwards of 80,000 visitors annually. Many, many of those visitors have come to know and love Paducah. It became instantly apparent to Victoria Faoro, MAQS' executive, the board and staff that the Quilter's museum could and should provide a way to help the community heal from the tragedy at Heath High School.

Bringing the Pieces Together Paducah Patchwork of Remembrance & Hope was first described in a press release from the museum on December 12, 1997. Quilts have often been made during times of crisis and loss,as a memorial, and they can serve to connect people and help them heal.The museum provided instructions, a place, and time for contributing a piece of a quilt. The museum opened its classrooms for Saturday work sessions, staffed by community volunteers, to encourage people to gather there and contribute to the quilt. Contributions from more distant places were also encouraged. Someone posted the press release on the Internet and it made its way, person-to-person, quilter's club to quilter's club around the world. Faoro received email from one parent who lost a child in the shooting who encouraged the museum's efforts and created a block for the quilt.

The press response made Faoro wish she had a public relations staff (she was fielding every request herself in the middle of an already overextended schedule). But those participating made her feel that the project was worth every ounce of effort. She said to me: Quilters really do love Puducah, and they have apparently wanted a way to let everyone know how much they care about what has happened.

The museum planned work sessions for people who wanted to inscribe a simple message on muslin, with a minimum of sewing. Much to everyone's surprise, the first seven people to arrive wanted to piece a complete block, so the museum scrambled to prepare additional tools and fabrics. The father of one girl who died came that first Saturday and picked up material to make a block at home with his surviving daughter. After that day, Vicki realized, "It's going to be a very difficult situation for the staff and volunteers living with this quilt and it's very intimate story over the next year." Later in the month, two families who lost children in the shooting arrived in the museum at the same time. They stood in front of the quilting in progress and talked for a long time. For Vicki, the project became a little frightening-realizing daily the community's vested attention, effort, and feeling. Paducah was dramatically changed on December 1, 1997 and the museum's response allowed it to participate as a full partner.

This example of museum as community shows an almost complete reduction of the barriers that typically separate the museum from its community. Flexibility, courage, sensitivity, and the ability to accommodate ambiguity are qualities of the relationship.