Nice knife. Even better story. Glad you were able to hang on to that knife.
My father also carried a Barlow. One of my first memories of a pocket knife was made with it. See, he had left it out and I just found it too irresistible. So as any mischievous little boy would do, I snuck it out to the back hallway of the two family house we lived in where I found out what "snap" is when dealing with stiff back springs.
Four stitches and a chewin' out by the "Ol' man" and I was a wiser lad.
Don't know what ever happened to that Barlow. Knowing dad, he probably gave it away.





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