Fathers and Grandfathers an Inspiration - Story and Poll

Who brought the love of knives into your life?

  • Your Father

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Your Grandfather

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Someone else

    Votes: 0 0.0%

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RyanW

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There seems to be a trend of Makers (And Collectors) that were inspired by their grandfather. I am one of those, my grandfather grew up with 8 brothers he was #6. He was raised in a small town built up by the Oil Drilling industry. He made a living with his hands in the dirt, he built his family home at the age of 20. Was a cattle rancher, sheep shearer, mechanic, Cafe/Bar Owner (Bouncer) and many other "Blue Collar" abilities. He was not highly educated, but was one of the smartest men I have ever met. He loved to Hunt, Fish, Box (Semi-Professionally), and collected everything. He was the guy with the yard full of "Junk" that all the neighbors hated until they needed something fixed.

I had a close connection with him, we lived 3 hrs. drive away. When we would go visit he and I would disappear into one of the many side buildings in his yard, and start digging through the treasure. When I would find something of interest to me, I would say: "How much for this Grandpa?" his reply was always the same "I have plans for that, besides you couldn't afford it" then he would chuckle covering his mouth with his hand. Nothing ever came home with me (to my parents delight), but I looked forward to the day he actually made a trade with me.

In his declining years he was active in his mind but unable to get out and do the things he loved, the years of hard work had taken its toll on his body. He was living in the Home he built for the family. Now 70 years had passed and the house was in need of serious repair. I had recently earned my Journeyman's license, so that I could save money on plumbing repairs on family owned rental properties. I spent 2 weeks remodeling his Bathroom and Kitchen, every minute he sat watching me use new and amazing tools (in his mind) sawzalls, phillips head screws put in with a cordless drill, pex tubing instead of copper or galvanized (he was adamantly against this new technology). At the end of each day he would say: "Ryan you don't know how easy you have it, I was born too soon!" But the reality was, he was not happy in these days or times. He didn't know kids couldn't take pocket knives to school, what it took to get a Deer, Elk or Antelope hunting tag.... the list goes on.

Fast forward through health problems and bone injuries. We were unable to convince him into moving from "his" town to live with us in the city. Eventually we were able to move him into a nursing home where a friend of the family was a nurse. When I would visit he and I would still talk trades, I would be sure to bring something that would interest him, a knife, tool, etc... He passed away in the nursing home, his mind still active and alert.

I came to realize that on those days he and I would rummage through his buildings of stuff, and I would leave empty handed. I left with much more, i left with a relationship with my "Grandpa Willie". An experience that exposed me to guns, knives, hunting, and hard work that left hands dirty and sore... I was born too late.

The makers mark I use is actually the cattle brand registered to my grandfather, Every knife I make is a tribute the man he was, and the life he lived.
WillieBrand.jpg


So my question: Why does it seem that more often than not, our grandfather is the one that introduced us to this thing called Knives?

I would love to hear other stories of Fathers, Grandfather's or others that inspired you...
 
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Thank you for the heartening anecdote. I have to admit I teared up a bit.

As a kid I was lucky enough to have my grandfather live one block away from me. He was an engineer for United Airlines. Before that he owned his own service station. He learned to work on cars by buying broken down cars and fixing them up to race with the local kids. He was 14. Later he had been admitted to Stanford, but WWII had other plans for him.

I would spend after school and summers at his house. He had only girls, so it was almost as if I became like the son he never had. He taught me how to work on cars, and use all sorts of tools, and boy did he have tools for everything. He too is still very sharp in the mind, but the years of smoking have taken a very harsh toll on him. I cherish all the time I have spent with him very much. It seems the relationship between Grandparents, and their grandchildren, is not muddied by all the little details of the parent-child relationship.
 
Great stories, guys. No grandparent story here, but one about my father, a man who I deeply respect and admire. My parents immigrated to the US in 1950, after they had spent the war years in Nazi-occupied Netherlands.* He immigrated because he wanted a better life for his family in the "land of opportunity" than could be had in the "old country." He was highly educated and had an advanced degree in Engineering. Nevertheless, he took a job working in a hardware store to make ends meet. He was not too proud to see that he had to work his way up in this new county.

Those first years, when he worked in the hardware store, he obviously made very little and the family was just scraping by financially. Despite that, he saved and bought a Henckels gentleman's pocket knife at the hardware store. Eventually he got a job as an Engineer, doing what he loved. Fifty years later he still had that knife. It had seen hundreds of box openings, repairing my toys, prying his fingers out of a closed garage door :eek:, working on engineering models at his job, etc. After all those years, I got him a new silver Swiss Army gentleman's knife and had his initials engraved on it. After I gave him the new knife, he said, "well I guess I don't need this anymore" and handed me his Henckels knife that had been with him for all those decades as he learned what it meant to be an American.

I have that knife sitting at the front of my knife cabinet. It's beyond beat up, with marks from sharpening on an electric can opener :eek:, and the other abuses it experienced. It is the prize of my collection, and will never be sold (not that anyone would want it in this condition :D). If there is ever a fire in our home, I will get the family out first, and then go back for the knife second. It embodies the struggles, heartaches, victories, and determination that he showed by taking a huge risk and coming to this country.

Here's a somewhat fuzzy picture of the knife.

* This is another whole set of stories, from hiding beneath the floorboards of his parent's home, to being shot at by Nazi troops and being a part of the underground resistance movement.

Henkels.jpg


- Mark
 
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Both Great stories Carl and Mark.

Carl, I think you may have the answer I am looking for in my situation where you said "the relationship between Grandparents, and their grandchildren, is not muddied by all the little details of the parent-child relationship" My father and I did not have common interests so there was a disconnect there also. Cherish the moments you still have with him!

Mark, It always amazes me how some people believe some work is beneath them. My Next door neighbor got laid off from his electrical engineering job and told me "There are only jobs that pay $20 per hour around, I would rather collect Unemployment than work at that level" made me sick to my stomach. He and his family were evicted (Renting) and his truck was repossessed. I wonder when that $20 per hour job looks good again? Your father obviously put Family before his personal Pride, that is a great man!
 
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