Written By Lisa Breslin

Chances are that when Carroll Hospital Center administrators approved the transformation of the small white house on the corner of Washington Road and Stoner Avenue into a thrift shop, they did not expect business to be that good.

But last year the shop (more of a reference to “white elephant” thrift sales than to the bunny in “Alice in Wonderland”), manned primarily by volunteers and filled with an eclectic inventory of donated items, kicked in approximately $48,000 toward the expansion of the hospital’s operating rooms. And as the thrift shop continues to pull in money like magic from a hat, The White Rabbit is showing the community that profit from donated items and time is far from an illusion.

The shop is a place where presentation and rotation are everything.

“If an item works its way through the whole house and in a variety of forms, it often sells,” said Michele DiGate, the only paid employee and the creative mastermind behind The White Rabbit.

It is also a place where volunteers are equally important. Thirteen of them, who give an average of five hours per week, keep The White Rabbit hopping. Among them are Lois Weaver, Ernie Rice, Nancy Smedley, Brenda Wimperis, Alex Belk, Al Bozell, and Gladys LaMott.

“The donations are unpredictable and always wonderful,” said DiGate.

For example, she remembers the camel saddle, which was tagged as a footstool for $25 until a knowing customer politely informed DiGate that it was not a piece of furniture on which one rests his feet.

“You’ve probably heard people say, “This is the real McCoy,” said DiGate. “Well, we had a McCoy pitcher and bowl until someone bought it for a very reasonable price.” (McCoy is a brand of pottery that was produced in the United States in the late 19th and 20th century)

And every week there is a creative (often themed) special. When the Ravens were in town, everything purple or black in The White Rabbit went on sale. When Michael Phelps took Olympic golds, everything gold in the shop (including the brass) was marked down. And then there is the ever-popular, “All-The-Clothes-You-Can-Fit-in-a-13-Gallon-Trash-Bag” special.

“Women are amazing. They can smush whole families of clothing into that bag,” said DiGate. And patrons have a tendancy to buy anything that is not nailed down.

Once, the spare shoes that DiGate brought to slip into late in the day were sold to a zealous customer.
“All in a day’s work,” said DiGate. “And all for a good cause.” – L.M.B.