The old white bus looked so lonely sitting out by the farm, far from the school kids it used to haul around the Hudson Valley on day trips and camping excursions. But our community mechanic was clear – its driving days were over. It had been rusting in the lot for two years waiting for someone to buy it at a pathetic price for parts, or at least its Mercedes engine. When no bidders came along, my husband, Jason, walked around it a few times and made an offer.

Our dream was to renovate it into a coffee bus, providing it could limp up the hill to Coleman Corners on the southwest edge of Fox Hill Bruderhof. (Coleman Corners is the farm stand we started in the early days of the pandemic so that we could still have some form of community with friends in the neighborhood. These friends currently number 831 – at least the ones who have signed up in the guest book for event notifications.)

Well, we got a thumbs-up for the project, and in May 2022 that sweet old vehicle drove – fitfully – up to the maintenance shed so the makeover could commence. First on the agenda: goodbye to those beat-up seats.

Then the luggage racks had to go, in preparation for roof-raising. This bus was definitely built for middle-schoolers – the average man barely had standing clearance. So Jason and a couple fired-up metalworkers, Max and Dylan, set about removing all the windows, cutting the frames to lift the roof sixteen inches, and adding extenders to support the higher ceiling.

Next the entire youth group arrived for a rust-removal party, one of many such times they lent their energy and inspiration to further the cause of coffee.

By July, the Busted Bean was ready for its victory lap, one loop around the ring road surrounding Fox Hill community, with all its makeover crew on board – or rather, above board.

Chugging up the hill to its final parking place, abutting the farm-stand shed, the bus settled in for the long haul.

We were hoping to get it weatherproof before winter so the interior could keep evolving during the cold, sleety days of November.

Our youngest daughter was a keen participant in the bus beautification process, and got an education in a bit of everything, from sealing plywood subfloors to painting the exterior in cappuccino colors and sanding and staining the wheelchair ramp.

Jason, Max, and Dylan planed and shaped the wood for the interior paneling for the walls and ceiling.

As winter settled in, so did the floors, in late-night and early-morning projects by the glow of the newly wired recessed lighting, powered from a nearby telephone pole. (Thank you, Perrin and Leroy.)

Leonard and sons came over from Woodcrest community to design and build the cabinetry, and help Jason build miniature cantilevered tables jutting out from the bus walls.

The coffee counter forms a wall behind the original driver’s seat and dashboard, but kids can still get to it via the old bus stairs up front. Many imaginary miles can be traversed thereby, with the passengers in back completely unaware of the journey.

Carl, a friend who is good at scrounging up amazing finds, discovered the never-assembled pieces of eight golden-age speakeasy bar stools in an old movie prop warehouse, and talked the owner into donating them. Jason assembled and stained them, then asked a textile engineer to coach him through the upholstery process. (Thank you, Ben.) Later online browsing led us to discover similar chairs being sold for $1,000 each, helping us appreciate the contributions of scroungers, carpenters, and upholstery-coach friends all the more.

Jason had been having shoulder trouble for some time, and, just as the end of renovation was in sight, he was scheduled for surgery to fix a torn rotator cuff. Suddenly he was working every spare minute up to the hospital date to get the big stuff done before being grounded. Post-surgery, he took note of the stern warning not to move his arm away from his side and turned his attention to interior decor, discovering that it is possible to wood-burn classic coffee quotes into cherry panels while absolutely not moving one’s shoulder.

We put our heads together with other interested parties to narrow down our equipment choices. Considering that farm-stand events can draw hundreds of visitors, we opted for a simple, sturdy, industrial coffeemaker rather than a fancy espresso machine, though that may yet be in the offing someday. We decided to use high quality, ethically sourced coffee beans, ground immediately before brewing, and add frothed milk for lattes and cappuccinos to get the best taste for the most people.

Almost to the exact hour of the Busted Bean’s second birthday, the doors opened for the first neighborhood coffee event, attended by 180 farm-stand friends, sipping and chatting, picking their favorite coffee quotes on the walls and Plough books on the shelves.

Since then, it’s been host to a neighborhood interfaith gathering as well as a small Bible study group. It has witnessed wild ’60s-themed birthday parties (looking at you, Sue) and offered Sunday post-service coffees for anyone walking by. I love to stand at the counter as someone steps in for the first time. I imagine the bus must get some satisfaction out of it as well; after all, buses are meant to have all seats filled.