Who Was That Masked Man?

When I was child, the question, “Who was that masked man?” meant The Lone Ranger. Tonto, kids, and adults knew the story of the Texas Ranger who was the only one left standing at the end of a hard day. None of us had any idea that masks were in our future in a way that defied the ideas of rangers and Halloween trekkers.

Our masks would not be black, and for my family, one would stand out among all of the others. I would have guessed it would be the Hulk, Captain America, or the Child, but it was not.

It started with a scrap of fabric.

I watched a video where a woman in Louisville made a mask. I thought, “I have that fabric!” She had chosen a cotton print of Snoopy dancing on a yellow background, a fabric I had used for my grandson’s pajamas. I watched the video several times, and made notes on the sizes of the rectangles and length of the elastic. And then, I made my first mask—also the yellow Snoopy print.

I sat back and looked at it, and thought, “One. I wonder if I will make more than a dozen?” Now, my naiveté is embarrassing. I made mask after mask, losing track of the number. Could I do a mask for a child? Sure! (Just let me go back to the internet for sizes.) Ah, here’s the green popcorn remnant! That will do! Did I have anything for a lady’s neighbor? I looked at the stack and texted that I had some Purdue print, did she think they would wear those? She said she would ask. Turned out two strangers were, indeed, Purdue graduates. There is nothing like offering a Boilermaker a Purdue mask. So, I made more Purdue masks for my own family members. Purdue Pete changes over time, and I had two Purdue fabrics from two different years. Those in the know can tell me which year my Pete comes from, but no Purdue fan ever turned down either one.

My oldest daughter called and said a friend needed masks with strings, not elastic. I went back to the internet. A friend offered me elastic. I was grateful. She needed baby fabric. I got several possibilities together for her. People came together. Those of us who sew made masks for anyone and everyone. Mine went to firefighters, college students, medical professionals, friends, friends of friends, children, family members, and a waitress. The woman I made the stringed masks for couldn’t pick them up. But my oldest daughter later had a friend who said she really needed masks with strings, so they went to her. I got a text from my youngest daughter saying that her school teacher husband wanted to order some Christmas masks. I asked, “Where will he do that?” She replied, “Um, he just did.” I laughed and got out Christmas fabric.

I overheard a crazy conversation between my youngest daughter and her son. They opened new masks from Gramma while we were on the phone. I had used a fabric showing matryoshka nesting dolls because I know my daughter loves those. Her ten year old reached for one and I heard, “No! No! Get away from those! Those are mine! You’ve taken enough! They are in the truck, in the van, at the school, in your bedroom! You tied the elastic to fit you! Go find those! I had to wear Pikachu to work the other day because you have all of the others!”

You would think I would have to buy fabric, but I bought maybe two pieces and those were small. Before the pandemic, my oldest daughter had been volunteering at a hospital. I bought fabric to make special pillow cases for boys and girls. She took a new job in another state, and any fabric not already used for the hospital became mask fabric. My youngest daughter sent me super hero fabric left over from a quilt. My granddaughter, Cora, texted that she needed a teal mask. Since teenagers seldom use “teal” I wondered why she asked for that, but I went through the stash and found teal. Cora was born with spina bifida. Turns out, the color for spina bifida awareness is teal. She matched it to her awareness t-shirt.

But in all of that, the masks that turned out to be the favorite surprised all of us. While I was shopping for pillowcase fabric for the hospital pillowcases, I saw a fabric that sported an ape. I thought, “Finally! Something I can use for boys!” I looked on the end of the bolt, and it said, “Donkey Kong.” It was on clearance, it was suitable for young men. I bought Donkey Kong. I still had it when masking up began. My husband took a Donkey Kong mask. We couldn’t go anywhere without getting stopped. People would point and say, “Donkey Kong! I used to love that!” Whether it was a kid at the Chick-fil-A or our doctor, everyone had to comment on Donkey Kong. The only other mask to draw a lot of comments was Chevy trucks, including a three-year-old at church who ran up, grabbed my husband’s leg, said “I love your car mask!” and ran off.

My son called me one Sunday to ask if I had more Donkey Kong masks. I said I had enough fabric for a couple more. He said the waitress where they went for lunch had pretty much had a fit over his son’s Donkey Kong mask and they wondered if I would make her couple. I made her two masks, put them in a paper bag with her name on it, and they delivered them. If I see a random person out and about with a black mask showing an ape, I’ll know she works at our pizza place.

This year was hard. We worried about people, we fretted at learning ZOOM. We had church services in our homes on Facebook. We ordered groceries on line, hoped the toilet paper would hold out, washed our hands until they were rough and red. And we made or wore a variety of masks. I made wedding masks! But we know we are better than we thought, braver than anyone believed, capable of lockdown, of working together with friends and strangers, and tough enough to endure a pandemic. That’s not a bad thing for generations that have been called entitled and self-serving. Maybe like a Lone Ranger, we work best when challenged.