Robin Wallace, a willowy redhead with a hint of Brenda Starr, journeys from her home in Glenmoore to an old ballroom in Pottstown to loose her soul.

There, in a 1928 building raised as an Eagles Lodge, she shakes off her coat. Then the 26-year-old slides onto the floor to move with the other dreamers and seekers.

It is Saturday night, and they have come to swing dance - the 63-year-old man longing to meet women, the divorcee free of a husband who refused to dance, the young Main Line couple looking for a new twist on a night out.

"I love the era and the music," Wallace said. As a teenager growing up in Downingtown, she persuaded her mother, Sterle, to accompany her to Philadelphia, to places like the Five Spot in Old City and the Commodore Barry Club in Mount Airy, so she could learn the steps.

Last Saturday, Wallace was among 100 or so people who climbed the stairway to Pottstown's Ballroom on High, as it is known, for a special dance event sponsored by Swing Kat Entertainment.

Swing Kat is the dream of Faryl Codispoti, a 31-year-old concrete truck driver from Pottstown who is enamored with steps developed before the World Wars. On Tuesdays, he usually opens the 4,000-square-foot ballroom so folks can practice their swing. Each Friday night he holds a dance, giving an hour of free instruction beforehand. At least once a month, as he did Jan. 20, he throws in a live band. And this Tuesday, he begins a six-week series of lessons with Paul Salter and Jen Scricco, who teach swing in Philadelphia.

Codispoti has run Swing Kat out of the old lodge on High Street for five months. Frazzled from dancing as far away as Washington, D.C., he'd been scrutinizing local storefronts, "hoping to start a dance in town," when someone told him about the Eagles ballroom.

The fraternal order had moved out in the mid-70s, leaving the building to a piecemeal of uses. But the ballroom held a rich history of dance in a town once known for Big Band music; Pottstown's Sunnybrook Ballroom, now shuttered, was a legendary venue played by Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey.

So Codispoti wandered by.

"It's Friday and there's a sign on the door that says 'Dance Tonight,' " he said. Turns out, a local ballet instructor was sponsoring ballroom dance up there every other Friday. She told Codispoti he could have the off weeks. She dropped her gig soon after, however, and he turned to building owner Martin Katzen. "He said he'd give me a chance."

Codispoti would like to draw at least 125 people for each dance. Then, maybe, he could quit driving the truck.

Codispoti had turned in the keys for the cement mixer for about a year as he built his dance dream, but found he needed the income from Trans-Fleet Concrete of Collegeville to keep the ballroom open. So he's back part-time, as a trainer.

"I teach people how to drive concrete mixers, too."

Last Saturday, Codispoti, who taught swing dance at Eastern University before launching Swing Kat, stood in the middle of the dance floor, encircled by about 20 dance students. He wore black pants and a maroon shirt, its large collar open at the neck, finished off with a tweed blazer. Canvas boat shoes, white slip-ons, emphasized his feet. His voice was soft with a soothing quality, but it carried clearly through the cavernous room.

"I will call it out so you don't get too terribly lost," he said at one point.

Rock, step, one-two.

Rock, step, one-two.

It's a turn.

"Did I confuse you when I said something different?" he asked them after throwing the turn into the routine. "I heard some noise."

His instruction is nearly flawless although he never saw swing dancing until about five years ago. As a teenager, he never danced at all.

That had been Renee's role.

"My sister really loved to dance," he said, "and she was ill with cancer." He decided to go dancing with Renee Codispoti as a way to get closer. The siblings sampled area dance floors.

After Renee died in 2002, at age 27, her brother "just danced, danced, danced."

"This dancing is her legacy to me," Codispoti said. "And it's been something that's really affected my life."

He used to feel down on weekend nights, at a loss for something to do. "Now, I bring happiness to other people."

People such as Robin Wallace.

"When I got on the floor, I felt like my soul could breathe," Wallace said of returning to swing after an eight-year hiatus. "It just gives me an opportunity to be myself."

Then, the young woman who "loves all things vintage" was gone, back to the floor of dreamers and seekers.

If You Go

What: Swing dancing sponsored by Swing Kat Entertainment.

Where: Old Eagles Lodge, 310 E. High St., Pottstown.

When: Fridays 9 p.m. to midnight ($10; $5 students and seniors); instruction (free) at 8 p.m.

Information: 610-348-6727 or www.swingkat.com.