A century of no change: The mask slackers of the 1918 pandemic

People waiting for masks in San Francisco in 1918. Photo: Hamilton Henry Dobbin, via California State Library
The masks were called muzzles, germ shields and dirt traps.
They gave people a âpiglike snoutâ.
Some people snipped holes in their masks to smoke cigars. Others fastened them to dogs in mockery.
Bandits used them to rob banks.
More than a century ago, as the 1918 influenza pandemic raged in the United States, masks of gauze and cheesecloth became the facial front lines in the battle against the virus.
But as they have now, the masks also stoked political division.
Then, as now, medical authorities urged the wearing of masks to help slow the spread of disease. And then, as now, some people resisted.
In 1918 and 1919, as bars, saloons, restaurants, theatres and schools were closed, masks became a scapegoat, a symbol of government overreach, inspiring protests, petitions and defiant bare-face gatherings.
All the while, thousands of Americans were dying in a deadly pandemic.
The first infections were identified in March, at an army base in Kansas, where 100 soldiers were infected.
Within a week, the number of flu cases grew fivefold, and soon the disease was taking hold across the country, prompting some cities to impose quarantines and mask orders to contain it.
By the fall of 1918, seven cities â San Francisco, Seattle, Oakland, California, Sacramento, Denver, Indianapolis and Pasadena, California â had put in effect mandatory face mask laws, said Dr Howard Markel, a historian of epidemics and the author of Quarantine!
Organised resistance to mask wearing was not common, Dr Markel said, but it was present.
âThere were flare-ups, there were scuffles and there were occasional groups, like the Anti-Mask League,â he said, âbut that is the exception rather than the rule.â
At the forefront of the safety measures was San Francisco, where a man returning from a trip to Chicago apparently carried the virus home, research archives show.
By the end of October, there were more than 60,000 cases statewide, with 7000 in San Francisco. It soon became known as the âmasked cityâ.

Workers at an information desk wearing masks in San Francisco in 1918. Photo: Hamilton Henry Dobbin, via California State Library
âThe Mask Ordinance,â signed by Mayor James Rolph on October 22, made San Francisco the first US city to require face coverings, which had to be four layers thick.
Resisters complained about appearance, comfort and freedom, even after the flu killed an estimated 195,000 Americans in October alone.
Alma Whitaker, writing in The Los Angeles Times on October 22, 1918, reviewed masksâ impact on society and celebrity, saying famous people shunned them because it was âso horridâ to go unrecognised.
âThe big restaurants are the funniest sights, with all the waiters and diners masked, the latter just raising their screen to pop in a mouthful of food,â she wrote.
When Whitaker declined to wear one, she was âforcibly takenâ to the Red Cross as a âslackerâ and ordered to make one and put it on.

A policeman wearing a flu mask talking to a couple, one masked, one not. Photo: Hamilton Henry Dobbin, via California State Library
The San Francisco Chronicle said the simplest type of mask was of folded gauze affixed with elastic or tape.
The police went for gauze masks, which resembled an unflattering ânine ordinary slabs of ravioli arranged in a squareâ.
There was room for creativity. Some of the coverings were âfearsome looking machinesâ that lent a âpiglike aspectâ to the wearerâs face.
The penalty for violators was $5 to $10, or 10 daysâ imprisonment.
On November 9, 1000 people were arrested, The San Francisco Chronicle reported. City prisons swelled to standing-room-only; police shifts and court sessions were added to help manage.
âWhere is your mask?â Judge Mathew Brady asked offenders at the Hall of Justice, where sessions dragged into night. Some gave fake names, said they just wanted to light a cigar or that they hated following laws.
Jail terms of eight hours to 10 days were given out. Those who could not pay $5 were jailed for 48 hours.

Rail commuters wearing white protective masks, one with the additional message âwear a mask or go to jailâ during the 1918 influenza pandemic in California. Photo: Raymond Coyne/Lucretia Little History Room, Mill Valley Public Library/Public domain
On October 28, a blacksmith named James Wisser stood on Powell and Market streets in front of a drug store, urging a crowd to dispose of their masks, which he described as âbunkâ.
A health inspector, Henry D. Miller, led him to the drug store to buy a mask.
At the door, Mr Wisser struck Mr Miller with a sack of silver dollars and knocked him to the ground, The San Francisco Chronicle reported. While being âpummeled,â Mr Miller, 62, fired four times with a revolver. Passersby âscurried for cover,â The Associated Press said.
Mr Wisser was injured, as were two bystanders. He was charged with disturbing the peace, resisting an officer and assault. The inspector was charged with assault with a deadly weapon.
In Los Angeles, âTo Mask or Not to Maskâ
That was the headline for a report published in The Los Angeles Times when city officials met in November to decide whether to require residents to wear âgerm scarersâ or âflu-scarersâ.
Public feedback was invited. Some supported masks so theatres, churches and schools could operate. Opponents said masks were âmere dirt and dust traps and do more harm than goodâ.
âI have seen some persons wearing their masks for a while hanging about their necks, and then apply them to their faces, forgetting that they might have picked up germs while dangling about their clothes,â Dr EW Fleming said in a Los Angeles Times report.
An ear, nose and throat specialist, Dr John J Kyle, said: âI saw a woman in a restaurant today with a mask on. She was in ordinary street clothes, and every now and then she raised her hand to her face and fussed with the mask.â
In Illinois, the Right To Choose, and To Reject
Suffragists fighting for the right to vote made a gesture that rejected covering their mouths at a time when their voices were crucial.
At the annual convention of the Illinois Equal Suffrage Association, in October 1918, they set chairs four feet apart, closed doors to the public and limited attendance to 100 delegates, the Chicago Daily Tribune reported.

Headlines from newspapers in Chicago. Photo: Getty
But the women âshowed their scornâ for masks, it said. It is unclear why.
Allison K Lange, an associate history professor at Wentworth Institute of Technology, said one reason could have been that they wanted to keep a highly visible profile.
âSuffragists wanted to make sure their leaders were familiar political figures,â Professor Lange said.
âFour Weeks of Muzzled Miseryâ
San Franciscoâs mask ordinance expired after four weeks at noon on November 21. The city celebrated, and church bells tolled.
A âdelinquentâ bent on blowing his nose tore his mask off so quickly that it ânearly ruptured his ear,â The Chronicle reported.
He and others stomped on their masks in the street.
As a police officer watched, it dawned on him that âhis vigil over the masks was doneâ.
Waiters, barkeeps and others bared their faces. Drinks were on the house. Ice-cream shops handed out treats. The sidewalks were strewn with gauze, the ârelics of a torturous monthâ, The Chronicle said.
The spread had been halted. But a second wave was on the horizon.








