I remember on an autumn evening in 1919, the wind in chilling gusts blowing ripples of rain across the gloomy street. The depressing scene seemed to accord with the mood of passers-by whose eyes reflected sorrow apprehension. Spanish Influenza was epidemic in the city and in the public view, had achieved the proportions of a plague. You heard all sorts of macabre stories – victims turned black and died within few hours; so many were sick the hospitals could not cope with them; so many dying there were no coffins.
Red Cross had equipped medical students with motorcycle transport to serve as doctors for the sick and needy, reported to suburban Town Halls. These had discovered an unexpected level of poverty and squalor in the inner city area; beds used in eight-hour shifts by adults of both sexes must now serve for all at once.
Most of the passers by wore masks of white gauze, suspended from the ears and covering nose and mouth. These were to prevent the wearer from infecting or being infected. They made it difficult to recognise your friends unless you had become familiar with their appearance masked. The mask kept the nose and mouth uncomfortably warm and moist and seemed to be incessantly slipping up into the eyes. Some averted this annoyance by covering only the mouth. You wondered whether the wearers would themselves convey infection if worn only over the mouth. They became soiled in the damp, sooty atmosphere and outside Belfield, where I stood, a man was selling brown and black ones, claiming they would not show the dirt.
You could speculate on the attitude of those passers by who were conspicuous without masks. Were they convinced of their futility, ashamed to appear afraid, reluctant to look silly, or simply defiant of communal sanction?
Nearby in George Street, the Health Department had set up an Inhalation Chamber, where you could have your nose, throat and lungs ‘disinfected’ by inhaling a vapour of steam, and zinc sulphate. After entering, you took off your mask and inhaled deeply. Patrons were numerous and the vapour made most of them cough. You hoped disinfection was instantaneous.
As you emerged from the steam laden atmosphere into the chill air outside, condensation drenched your clothes and shivering, you wondered whether this method of prevention might have hazards of its own and defeat the purpose of the mask by uncovering the mouth.
C.E Cook