...this one would probably have some stories to tell.
I found this the other day and got to thinking about what stories are hidden in some of these old knives.
Many years ago, I had the pleasure of spending a few hours watching and listening to Whittlin' Jim at the BSA National Jamboree. I looked forward to the projects he posted in Boy's Life Magazine (and tried a few myself), so getting the chance to see him in action was a real highlight of my adventures there. He told some great stories, flung sharp one-liners, and let us all watch his handiwork and ask questions and advice. Along the way, someone asked about the blade he was using, and he passed around his knife for all of us to see. He said that it had been fashioned from an old straight razor and described the process of making one.
Well, I decided that I had to have a knife like his, cut down from some old razor that I did not happen to have. So I began to seek one out. After I while I mentioned to one of my scoutmasters the day's events and he said, "hey, I've got an old straight razor you can have..." A few weeks later, he opened his briefcase after a scout meeting and produced a small old cardboard box. "This is for you," he said. So, I slid the box apart and what I found was a very old Böker.
I politely refused his offer, saying that it was a little too nice, and that I didn't want to butcher something like that. He said that I should have it, since it was destined to rust away in his garage if I didn't. I asked where it came from, and this is where it got interesting. He told me that his uncle was a local cop in his old hometown and that the uncle had acquired the razor in an arrest. The cop busted some ruffian with the blade in his possession and thinking it better that no one should get hurt, the cop confiscated it. The officer apparently kept it as a souvenir, which eventually made its way into my scoutmaster's garage and then to me.
Once home, I began to take a closer look at it. The box is from a Böker, with the flaking remnants of a price tag still attached. The razor wears a horn handle that has seen some better days. On one side, it carries the intials "G.M." with a few hash marks. Looking at it from the narrow side, you can see that the handle is bent and appears to have been carried in a back pocket for some time. Overall, the condition of the razor matched up with what you would expect from a confiscated blade.
For whatever reason, I decided not to make this one into a whittling knife, and stuck it in my box of assorted sharp things. I just found it recently and got to thinking about "G.M." and his nefarious ways. Was he a genuine thug? A mere wannabe? What kind of tales might this old thing tell? Its condition tells a great story all on its own.
I showed it to my wife and related the tale of its origins, and she was less than impressed. She said something like, "What?!? Can you get rid of that thing, already?"
Please don't tell her that I still have it.
Whaddya think? Got any good stories?
I found this the other day and got to thinking about what stories are hidden in some of these old knives.
Many years ago, I had the pleasure of spending a few hours watching and listening to Whittlin' Jim at the BSA National Jamboree. I looked forward to the projects he posted in Boy's Life Magazine (and tried a few myself), so getting the chance to see him in action was a real highlight of my adventures there. He told some great stories, flung sharp one-liners, and let us all watch his handiwork and ask questions and advice. Along the way, someone asked about the blade he was using, and he passed around his knife for all of us to see. He said that it had been fashioned from an old straight razor and described the process of making one.
Well, I decided that I had to have a knife like his, cut down from some old razor that I did not happen to have. So I began to seek one out. After I while I mentioned to one of my scoutmasters the day's events and he said, "hey, I've got an old straight razor you can have..." A few weeks later, he opened his briefcase after a scout meeting and produced a small old cardboard box. "This is for you," he said. So, I slid the box apart and what I found was a very old Böker.
I politely refused his offer, saying that it was a little too nice, and that I didn't want to butcher something like that. He said that I should have it, since it was destined to rust away in his garage if I didn't. I asked where it came from, and this is where it got interesting. He told me that his uncle was a local cop in his old hometown and that the uncle had acquired the razor in an arrest. The cop busted some ruffian with the blade in his possession and thinking it better that no one should get hurt, the cop confiscated it. The officer apparently kept it as a souvenir, which eventually made its way into my scoutmaster's garage and then to me.
Once home, I began to take a closer look at it. The box is from a Böker, with the flaking remnants of a price tag still attached. The razor wears a horn handle that has seen some better days. On one side, it carries the intials "G.M." with a few hash marks. Looking at it from the narrow side, you can see that the handle is bent and appears to have been carried in a back pocket for some time. Overall, the condition of the razor matched up with what you would expect from a confiscated blade.
For whatever reason, I decided not to make this one into a whittling knife, and stuck it in my box of assorted sharp things. I just found it recently and got to thinking about "G.M." and his nefarious ways. Was he a genuine thug? A mere wannabe? What kind of tales might this old thing tell? Its condition tells a great story all on its own.
I showed it to my wife and related the tale of its origins, and she was less than impressed. She said something like, "What?!? Can you get rid of that thing, already?"
Please don't tell her that I still have it.
Whaddya think? Got any good stories?
