The accidental brilliance of Bizarre Bazaar

Sandpoint’s ‘upscale resale store’ celebrates 20 years

By Kathryn Larson
Reader Contributor

The Community Assistance League’s 25th annual rummage sale wrapped up in November 2005. As volunteers faced yet another mountain of high-quality leftovers with nowhere to go, Joyce Spiller circulated an email to the leadership proposing something radical: a year-round resale store. Then she promptly left town.

A small group stepped in to see whether the idea was even feasible. They studied resale operations, ran the numbers and looked for possible locations. The idea went to the CAL Board in early January 2006. Concerns surfaced: financial risk, volunteer burnout, operational complexity. The board agreed to present to membership, not expecting any action. The members had other plans.

Janet Rogers shouted out a motion to open a store, spurring a vote that passed with only one dissent. Just like that, it was happening. Three months later, the first Bizarre Bazaar brick-and-mortar store opened in Ponderay.

“It was amazing how fast everything happened,” remembered Tracy Gibson, who was CAL president from 2004-2006.

The timeline was fast, but not reckless.

What began as a small set of reliable annual fundraisers — most notably a well-run rummage sale and an auction — had built reserves of about $29,000 by 2005. From that foundation, Bizarre Bazaar grew into a self-sustaining enterprise that now returns roughly $250,000 a year to the community. That kind of success doesn’t happen by accident.

This is the origin story of Sandpoint’s “upscale resale store” Bizarre Bazaar, which celebrates 20 years of operation in March and remains run entirely by volunteers, fueled by generous donations and sustained by a community that loves a good treasure hunt. 

The initial startup budget was modest: about $11,000 up front and $3,000 a month in rent. Money was borrowed from a fund originally set aside to produce a cookbook, with a plan to pay it back within the first year. The organization paid it back in less than a month.

What made the difference wasn’t money — it was people. Each volunteer took ownership of something different. Gibson drove the concept forward, organizing the layout, contracts, insurance, training manuals, fixtures and morale. Former-CAL Treasurer Sherry Kerr made sure the numbers worked and the debt didn’t become a burden. Spiller and Cindy Chenault became co-managers, keeping the store running with equal parts discipline and humor.

The original store was tiny, roughly 600 square feet, with no real storage to speak of. The work area was tight. Volunteers would take off their coats or set down a purse to help sort, clean or price, only to circle back later and find it hanging neatly with a price tag attached. In a space that small, everything was fair game.

Joan Britton figured out pricing and insisted on protecting the value of donated items. 

“She wouldn’t let us price anything too low,” Spiller recalled. 

Barbara Buchanan brought her design eye to the floor, making the store feel intentional and welcoming. Barbara and Jay Buchanan repurposed covered wagons from earlier CAL fundraisers into shelving and display pieces, setting the tone for creative reuse. Chenault arrived early every day to make sure the store was clean, organized and ready to open. 

“I was afraid the landlord would make us leave,” she said. 

So she made sure there was no reason to.

Everyone worked. Everyone was trusted. Everyone had a voice. There was healthy rivalry and plenty of teasing. Chenault and Spiller ran the store with different instincts and a shared sense of fun, especially when it came to deciding what should be resold and what should be passed on. They regularly reversed each other’s decisions. One time, while Chenault was busy pulling items out to put on the floor, came across a note that Spiller had left before leaving town. It simply read: “Put it back.” 

No one was in charge because they wanted authority; decisions were made by anyone willing to show up and do the work.

CAL spent decades building trust in the community, not just through fundraising, but through relationships, accountability and a clear mission. That foundation mattered. So did frugality. Fixtures were scavenged. Displays were repurposed. Volunteers painted, cleaned, sorted and learned on the fly. Ego was left at the door. Fun was not optional.

Twenty years later, Bizarre Bazaar is still run by CAL volunteers, still fueled by community generosity, and still sustained by hundreds of shoppers each month. Bizarre Bazaar not only turns donated goods into local impact. It also creates a place where meaningful work turns into friendship.

The magic wasn’t the business plan. It was trusting people to rise to the occasion.

Kathryn Larson is a volunteer with the Community Assistance League. Bizarre Bazaar is located at 114 S. Boyer Ave. Learn more about the organization at calsandpoint.org.