Cornershot

Ralph Berrier Jr.’s delightful story of his mother’s devotion reminded me of what my mother once did for me long ago.

When World War II ended, my father was able to transfer back to his original job in the Galax area, in the fall of 1946.

I was 5 years old and it must have been just before Halloween, for when my mother tried to find me a mask, both local dime stores had sold out.

At that time, they were made of a stiffened cloth material (and does anyone else remember that they were called False Faces then?).

So, my mom took cheesecloth, soaked it in a laundry starch solution, dried it over an inverted colander, painted it with food coloring, cut out the eyes and mouth, and voila!

I was able to trick-or-treat with the best of them.

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