Fathers and Sons

Joined
Jul 10, 2013
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Five years ago my father passed. Going through some of his things, I found his old sodbuster jr that he carried for years. It wasn't the only knife I ever saw him carry, but it is the one I most identify with him. The day of the funeral, I realized I'd never known him to be without a knife, but I couldn't bear to part with that old sodbuster. He was on his way to a new place so I needed to send him with a new knife. One he'd be familiar with and appreciate. So I got two black handled sodbuster jr' s and put one in his coat pocket. I kept the other. I display them both in my home.

I have a few others of his, as well as a few that belonged to my grandfathers. I also cherish the ones they gave me.

So lets see the ones you have that have meaning because of who they came from, be it father, grandfather, brother, uncle, whomever.

 
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I need to get a group shot together.

I don't have any of my dads. He is still using them, and typically, he carries knives I bought him!

I'll get them back when he is done.

I have a slip joint, a barlow, from my dad's father. I also just recently got an old butchers knife fron his grandpa as well.

I have three knives I got this summer from my wife's side. Tbey were her own grandfathers. Her dad gave them to me. They were being abused for yard work!
 
Nice gesture. My brother was a Sodbuster Jr. guy. It's the only knife I knew him to carry except for a Rapala fillet knife. He skinned countless deer, hogs and I once helped him skin an alligator while he was using it. I carry mine in the woods and on occasion when I'm missing him. He was 17 years older than I and a great hunting partner.
 
This is the first knife I was given (Barlow)
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This was my Dad's. The bottom one.
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This is the replacement of one I lost that was given to my from my wife and son
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And this is the first knife my son picked out
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Dave
 
My father gave me a Buck Stockman several years before he died and I never though much of it until I joined this forum and renewed my interest in pocket knives. Even though I have never carried it, it has always had special meaning because he picked it out and gave it to me. I also have a old rusted Kabar of his and not sure how old it is. No pictures right now of either knife. Anyway thanks for starting this thread and enjoyed your story.
 
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This old Shapleigh belonged to my grandpa and my dad. It's beat up, rusty, has a roughly modified main blade, and the bolsters are nicked up from years of service. I can still see my dad scraping carbon deposits from spark plugs, and removing splinters from my fingers with the same blade. It isn't much to look at, but unlike most of my knives, this baby was used daily by men who grew up in a culture where a pocket knife was an essential tool for a majority of the population.
 
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