I don't really share this story a lot, for very personal reasons, but I suppose we are all friends here. As kids growing up, me and my older brother were inseperable. There were 4 of us boys, but the oldest two were always off getting into trouble, so that left me and Anthony to our own. I have always carried knives, always given them as gifts and ALWAYS have one on me. Anthony always carried a 112, in fact in our small town it was kind of his trade mark, hiking boots with red laces and a Buck knife. As we grew older, we kind of grew apart, but we remained friends. One day in 1984 at our parents house we had a falling out, we actually got in a fist fight over some stupid comment over some stupid girl. My dad split us up, and we went our separate ways. 5 days later he was killed in a motorcycle accident. My parents asked me to sell my bike, which I did, and life went on as it does, although that scar still has not healed, 20 years later. In 2000, my dad was diagnosed with alzheimers, and within 6 months he had started to slip. Rather than lose everything he ever knew to a slow painful heartless disease, he took his own life. I loved my dad dearly, as I did my brother. While going through my dad's possesions I discoved a few knives, an old timer, a case and a few others. I also discovered something that he had kept hidden, something that none of us even knew existed, my dad had a locked box with pictures of my brother, the accident report, police report, and my brother's possesions. The 112 was in there, in the leather sheath, where it had stayed hidden for 16 years. It was badly tarnished and very dull, but it was intact and whole. I spent a few days carefully cleaning it, and have gotten it into pretty good shape, but I have never sharpened it. It is an old model (obviously), simply says "Buck" and "112" on it, no nail nick. Some day when Buck gets all moved into the new shop, I would like to send it in to be sharpened, so that I can have an excuse to take it out of the oak tool chest it rests in with my 23 other buck knives, and move it into my top desk drawer for occational use. It will ALWAYS be my most cherished knife, if not possesion, for the memories it brings me of my brother and dad. I have a modern 112 that I carry myself now, usually when I ride my motorcycle (yes, I have had several since then), as I don't want to risk having my pocket clipped knife fall out. I love the Buck 110/112 knives, and some day when my daughter gets old enough she will have her uncle Anthony's Buck knife. Sorry for the long post, it's been a while since I shared that story. Felt good though.
Jim