Blessed be the mask makers.
And they are everywhere now, sharing patterns, sewing at their kitchen tables, searching online for the last spool of elastic on Earth.
Six weeks ago, I bought a package of paper face masks at Walgreens, feeling a little silly. There they were on a mostly empty shelf — no more disposable gloves, no more rubbing alcohol, no more drugstore staples to ward off coronavirus, or to at least put a salve on the rising fear.
But those masks called to me, so I snatched them up and stashed them in my closet, hoping I wouldn’t need them.
But I did. A few weeks later, I was wearing them on trips across town to see my grandbabies — Look, Grandma's an oddly dressed superhero! — before we’d all been self-isolated long enough to not worry so much.
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Now, I’m ready to go public.
Masks are becoming more mainstream as everyone, from the experts at the CDC to the crisis-converts at the White House, lean toward their use in public spaces, after months of eschewing the notion.
And homemade masks are becoming more crucial to health care workers as COVID-19 cases escalate and the supply of medical-grade masks can’t keep up.
In Lincoln, crafty (and caring) people have heard the call and heeded it.
“We’ve delivered about 1,500 masks,†said Alexis Plouzek, who started the Facebook page . “We have requests for an additional 2,000 and I hope to get those delivered in next few days.â€
Plouzek isn’t a professional seamstress. She’s a busy girl mom with a sewing machine who works in pharmaceutical sales.
She started thinking about crafting masks after reading a Forbes article on the subject. She reached out on her health care working friends on Facebook — What do you guys think?
The feedback was mixed.
“There was a big debate,†she said Friday. “And in the end, it seemed better than a bandana around our faces, which the CDC said was an option.â€
She called more friends in the field. “Everyone said, 'Yes, this is a huge need.'â€
As the requests piled up, so did the volunteers. The Facebook page she created to manage the crush has grown to 500 members in two weeks.
The masks are free, although donations to cover materials and shipping are accepted.
Where are all the masks going? Dental offices, medical clinics, homeless shelters, retirement homes, for visitors at hospitals.
The mask makers wash the masks when they are finished, place them in clean food storage bags and box them up before dropping them on Plouzek’s doorstep.
“These are not a substitute for medical-grade equipment,†she said. “But, if nothing else, they keep people from touching their face, and if they do have symptoms, reduce speed of transmission.â€
The list of local mask makers is long. The Lincoln Quilters Guild is making masks (and hospital gowns and surgical caps). Moms are making masks for their family and friends.
Rachel Seiler and a small crew of volunteers have made 1,000 masks in the past few weeks.
They’ve stopped taking requests for now, said the labor and delivery nurse, who is currently staying home with her 10-month-old daughter.
“I have five ladies sewing,†she said. “They’re learning how to Zoom and work at home and take care of their kids and grocery shop. We’re wanting to save everyone, but realizing we don’t have the supplies or the resources.â€
When the pandemic first began its spread, Seiler was in touch with a nurse friend who worked near the Kirkland Care Center in Seattle, site of an early outbreak.
They talked about the shortages of protective equipment.
“I just said, ‘Oh, my goodness, I need to make you a mask,’†Seiler said. “I was home on a Friday night with my mom, and we started making them.â€
When she reached out to more friends in the health care field, she figured they would laugh.
“They said, ‘No, we need this.’â€
Seiler has shipped masks across the country and distributed them locally. Some recipients are wearing the free masks over their medical-grade masks to prolong their use.
Some are requesting pouches for filters.
“We’re not claiming it’s going to do anything miraculous,†the nurse said. “It’s not been tested and it’s cloth, but it’s better than a bandana.â€
To that end, her videographer husband, Andy Seiler, created a tutorial and a website —  — for those who want to make their own.
Seiler is hurting for her fellow nurses, thinking about moms in delivery rooms, sometimes alone because of restrictions because of the virus.
“I don’t want to bury my head in the sand,†she said. “This gave us some power because we could respond in some way.â€
You could say the same for Jen Carlson and Josh Shear.
The Lincoln couple own a and orders are dwindling, so they had some extra time.
And Carlson had a sewing machine. Like everyone, she’d been following the great mask debate and decided to make a few for the two of them and their teenage son.
“We wanted to go simple,†she said.
She felt pretty conspicuous the first time she wore her two-layer cotton mask to drop off some packages.
“I kind of got the side eye. Then I wore it to the fabric store, and it felt less weird.â€
She plans to wear one to the grocery store, a source of high anxiety.
And now she’s taking orders from friends on Facebook, who are definitely interested in a $5 mask: 85 requests on Day One.
Fine by her.
“We own our own business, and we know how to come up with systems and processes to move things along.â€
Carlson bought all the elastic she could find locally, and Shear is on the trail of more — enough for 500 masks on order so far, with the possibility of a case, enough to hold 17,000 masks in place.
They just want to do their part, Carlson says. She sent a mask to a friend with a health condition in Arizona. To her aunt in the middle of Nebraska. To a junior high friend who needs them for staff at a mental health unit at an Omaha hospital.
“We can’t make ventilators, but we can make masks that might prevent people from needing one later.â€
Maybe help get the transmission rate down a fraction and save a life.
“Small is all we can do.â€
It’s been a joy watching the mask makers do their thing, said Plouzek, who started the COVID crafters’ Facebook page. So many sewers out there, stuck at home, dusting off their sewing machines.
“People have been so willing to help. It’s been a joy.â€
The other night, she and her husband were sitting at home talking about World War II and the Victory Gardens planted by ordinary citizens to help the nation at a time of scarcity and fear.
She thought of the ordinary people sewing.
“It’s not a Victory Garden,†she said. “But maybe it's a Victory Mask.â€