Giveaway - Tell me a knife story

[Brian.Evans]

I no longer own this knife. It really was about the perfect knife and really solidified in my mind my love of jack knives. I didn't lose it, I didn't break it. It belongs to a wonderful little boy that loves it.

My wife and Adrien have been friends for 25+ years. Adrien was the maid of honor at our wedding. She has a young son (about 10ish) who is a pretty cool kid. She is raising him by herself, the "dad" is a deadbeat to put it mildly. They were over at our house visiting last winter and I happened to be sharpening one of my other knives from my knife box. He sat and watched me intently, and asked very mature, pertinent questions. I was suitably impressed. I couldn't help it, the little boy inside me came out. I knew what it was like to receive a knife, and want a knife. He seemed interested, so after securing his mother's permission, I gifted him his new knife. I explained how to and how not to cut, that it was a tool not a toy, and that he should never use it to pry or take it to school. He listened, and I handed him his knife. He was impressed, I was happy. It was a good day.


Edit: I'm pretty proud of that sharpening job, looking at the picture. That's a freehand bevel.

 

[r8shell]

I have a friend from school who was living in Yemen. Some years ago, she visited with her two teenaged sons. She saw that I have a lot of knife catalogs around the house (required bathroom reading) and asked if I had any old ones I wouldn't mind giving her, as the boys liked to look at the pictures. I asked if they had any pocketknives of their own and she said no. After getting her permission, of course, I looked around and found one for each of them. I don't remember what patterns they were, except some small, multi-bladed traditionals. You know those knives you end up accumulating that you never carry because you have better ones or ones you like better, but there's nothing really wrong with them so you keep them in a box or drawer for the next time you want to give someone a little gift? Yeah, those knives. I was a little disappointed that she wouldn't take one for herself, but oh well.

A year or so later, I recieved from her this knife: It's an example of Jewish Yemini smithwork, and now I wish I'd gifted them something fancier!

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A detail:

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[Boosted227]

As a young boy of about 4, maybe 5 I would go to my "Granny's & Pa's" house every chance I got to be with my Paw, because even if I was there the day before all I had to say was, "Got any new knives Pa?" and we would head to his little knife room. It was about the size of a small bathroom, and everywhere you looked there were knives. Mostly Case knives, but also Buck, Queen, Camillus, and I really don't remember many other brands as that was 30 years ago. He was in his 50's then, and wasn't my grandfather by blood, but I loved him like he was. In 2003 Granny passed away in her sleep and it was 3 days before Thanksgiving and he lived almost 3,000 miles away from me in Carson City, Nevada, but I flew out there the minute I heard the news and tried to comfort him in any way I could while silently crying to myself over the loss. After I was there a day or two he told me he never missed setting up a couple tables at the Reno Gun & Knife Show so we loaded up all his knives and took off. He was legally blind, and could only tell what knife he was holding by feel or if he put it under his little magnifying glass with a light on it, and he still made a few mistakes, but he said he set up all of his knives a certain way so I just watched him as he spent around half of the day setting out around 500 knives I would say. I sat with him every minute of the show except for bathroom breaks and on the way back from one I threw $5 in a 25 cent machine on a bar and hit for $1,800 and crapped my pants all at the same time. On the way back to my Pa I bought an H&K USP Compact, a Remington 700 Sendero, and a Case Abalone Sowbelly I gave to Pa when I sat back down even though he had a glass case full of Abalone Case knives in front of him. That was the only knife i ever gave him. I wish I would have told him everything he had given me...the passion of collecting knives, his knowledge, but most of all just the time he spend with me "knifin" as he called it. When I left Nevada I brought him home with me, along with all his knives and a few other things, but most everything else he gave away. In 2005 he got diagnosed with bladder cancer but he would still manage to clean a few knives a day if he wasn't in too much pain. On November 26th 2006 he called me in his room and opened the box with the Abalone Sowbelly I gave him in it and said he never carried it, but he held and cleaned it every day. The next day he passed away, leaving behind about 800 Case knives, a few hundred Remington Bullet knives, MoP, damascus, or other limited run Remington's, all NKCA knives up to 2005 or 2006, maybe 100 old Smith & Wesson knives, and about another 300 or so knives from different manufacturer's and every Case knife/Ertl Truck set ever made up until '05 and in some cases 10 or 12 of each. Oh and about 6 bazillion Remington posters. That knife room has over 35 years of my Pa's collecting, and I like to just go in there and lock the door and grab 6 or 7 knives and cleaning them like he did with his little yellow cloth's. He gave me the love I have for knives, and he was probably the best man i ever knew next to my dad. I thank everyone in this forum for posting a picture of a Case knife, because no matter what is on my mind it goes away and I think about my Pa for a bit. Thanks for giving me the chance to tell about my grandfather, one of the best men I have ever known. May he rest in peace.

James H. Scivally
April 6th, 1924-November 6th, 2006

 

[combatjiujitsu]

Been attending my wife's grandfather's funeral for the last couple of days, yesterday one of my wife's favorite uncles remarked how he lost his pocketknife last weekend and it was tearing him up not having it. A few hours later I was making ideal chit chat with him and he told me it was a old Uncle Henry Stockman. Now it just so happens being the Knife Knut that I am, I have two in my possession, when I got home that night I took the old Stockman, sharpened it up real good and dropped it in my pocket along side my yellow nut. When the uncle came in for a handshake I had palmed the knife to him and he pulled it back staring in wonder. He opened the main blade checked the edge and just got this huge grin on his face. Smiling he pulled me in for a hug and asked me how much it would cost him. Smiling back I just told him to take care of it and don't lose this one. He told me when he passes I can have it back. Just seeing his mood change like that seem to brighten up the room a little.

 

[pmew]

It appears that many of us have stories about our grandfathers, or fathers and how they feature in the stories that we're reading. I am no different, my story is about my grandfather, and my grandmother. Both of my grandparents were missionaries in China. My grandfather was a young, newly appointed methodist minister, and my grandmother a nurse. They both were stationed in the Hunan province at some stage and it was at that point that they met. My grandfather (having grown up in the Sheffield area) fell in love with this stunning red headed Welsh nurse and so it was that they began 'courting'.

At that particular stage in the 1940's luxuries were scarce in China, and so was money. My grandfather used to walk from his own village for a day and then stay over-night in a guest house before continuing to where my grandmother stayed. There they would meet for a meal. Then my grandfather would walk back the same way staying at the same guesthouse overnight before continuing home. Love is persistent and eventually his perseverance payed off because the two married, shortly before the communist uprising that saw them flee, as so many did, on foot to Hong-Kong.

At any rate, I mentioned that luxuries were scarce. Things like toothbrushes for example were very hard to come by. My grandfather would tell us, his grandchildren, that the guesthouse that he used to stay in had one toothbrush that would be shared between the household and guests. He could not afford his own at that time and so he would do the following; on the approach to the village where the guesthouse was, he would cut a twig from a bush, feather it with his penknife, and use it as a toothbrush.

I am often struck with how much I take for granted these days and the fact that my grandfather would make his own toothbrush and walk for three days all in the name of love, is amazing. My grandfather is no longer around, but my grandmother is 93 and going strong. She still has red hair that keeps it's natural colour (the envy of all her friends). Until his last days when he went into hospital my grandparents had not spent a night apart in 56 years. Commitment like that is unheard of these days.

I inherited this after his passing so I do not know if this was the same knife or not, I like to think it was and have deliberately not asked my grandmother, so as to keep my dream alive. It is the only one I ever saw him use though.




Thanks for the opportunity, I have enjoyed telling this tale.

Paul.

 

[Brian.Evans]

Paul, you are correct. That it's why I love this place above all others online. It has been said, if you wish to know a man, ask him about his father, for there lie his strengths, weaknesses, his good memories or his bad. Reading through these posts, it is obviously true. Good stuff gentlemen.