Knife Stories! All kinds!

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shelbysguns

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Feb 1, 2009
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Ok, I haven't seen a thread like this for a while, so tell us your knife stories! Any you can think of, be they bad reactions to knives, or a day saved by the knife in your pocket, or even tales of loss or woe when we misplace or break our trusty partners!:(
I'll start with one of my many:
My mom and dad came home from a dinner with the sheriff and his wife, (they are great friends!) and mentioned something about the biker gang that was supposedly in town to knock off a rival stoolie, who happened to be in the same restaurant they were. My dad noticed that the leader was carrying a medium fixed blade, and two pocket clipped folders. He told me this story from the other room, then came into the one I was in to see why I couldn't stop laughing. I was cleaning my collection, and was surrounded by at least 30 knives, and was wearing two large Fixed Blades, and a folder or three. I had been doing this before he came home without thinking about what it looked like, so I then told him to worry about the knives his son is carrying instead of other people's.
I got a lot more, but I'll save them till later!
So lets hear some of your stories!!
 
I was around 20ish and had just moved to a mountain town. Most of the people I befriended were Vietnam vets.
Anyway, I asked a couple of the local badasses to teach me a thing or two about fighting and they agreed.
The first thing I had to show them was how good I was at throwing knives since I told them I was kinda skilled in that area.
We go out to the nearest tree and I fling my blade into it quite firmly.
Before the blade even hit the tree they were punching me.
I got my ass kicked that day, but not too bad... they were my friends, y'know. :)
That was the day I learned that it's a really bad idea to throw away your weapon.
Very valuable lesson, indeed.
 
This was my Grandfathers knife, he used it 35 years ago the last time I saw him, (I was 15 then) to cut Kielbasa and smoked/cured meats in the pantry for our afternoon meals along with cutting up bread and onions and peppers to go with the ham.

prunera.jpg


My cousin found it in the basement and gave it to me as a gift when I went home.

It's gotta be over 65 years old and other than the pitting/character it's as strong as the day he let me use it to cut myself a piece of kielbasa the last day I saw him.

prunerc.jpg


I hadn't even thought of that day or the knife in nearly 35 years, her giving me that knife brought a tear to this old Mad Hungarians eye.


It says Gerlach Poland on the tang I'm not even sure what kind of wood it has for handles, anyone ever seen or heard of this brand.

prunerb.jpg


The funny part, when my grandfather died 30 years ago his daughter in law threw it out and my cousin who's my age (50) garbage picked it and saved that and his Bull Horn that he used to keep his sharpening stone in and hanging on his belt for sharpening his scythe when working in the fields, the horn has to be 100+ years old.

Three more pictures to finish this story:

First is the horn my grandfather had that he kept the sharpening stone in:

horn.jpg


Here's a picture of my grandfather and 6 of my mother's brothers and sisters, if you look on his belt you'll see the horn hanging:

grnpalrg.jpg


For the old folk with bi-focals here's a closeup:

grnpalrga.jpg


I love family history, this story was posted in this link before here when I came back from vacation in Hungary two years ago.
 
1) My wife and I are in our 50's. One day we were walking in a parking lot toward a store. A youngish lady approached me and said she had gotten a thorn in her sandal that had penetrated the sole and was hurting her foot. She asked if I could remove it. I dug a stockman out of my pocket and used a blade to help dig the thorn out of the rubber sole. She blinked at the knife, but thanked me for removing the thorn.

2) I often walk in the park after work to wind down from the day. One day a little gal about 8 years old was riding her bike. She had gotten a kite string tangled in the gears. Her dad was telling her they'd have to go home so he could fix it. I stopped and asked if I could help. I dug a Leatherman Micra out of one pocket, and a small trapper out of the other. Between the scissors and the blade, I got the string free and the little gal was off riding again. Her father looked at the Micra and said, "I've got to get me one of those." "Arr", I said to myself, "another convert."
 
I was about 7 years old and i went into a hardware store with my parents and i saw this five dollar knife (schrade x-timer in camo) and i wanted it but my dad refused to buy it because he said it was a crappy knife i used it for a while and being the stupid kid i was sharpened it with SANDPAPER and it would shave hair off your arm so i used it and i ended up skining my first deer with it and it did such a good job my dad ended up taking it and using it and the first thing he said was "I eat my words about that knife" lol
 
One time, i got my first nice knife. I opened it and was pleased. I was practicing opening and closing it when i dropped it. For a split second physics completely doubled back on itself and somehow the knife bounced up from the ground and stabbed my right in the shin. it was one of the deepest cuts ive ever had. It bled for what seemed like forever. It was such a clean cut though, (and in an area where theres no veins/arteries/good stuff), that it barely hurt.

Thats was a horrible story but i don't have many others
 
Three weeks ago, after working 16 hours straight, I walked in my front door exhausted, set my keys on my hallway table, and promptly dropped my nalgene bottle which then rolled back out into the hallway. As I stepped out to grab it, the wind blew a bit, caused an air pressure change, and my front door slammed with my keys still on the side table. When I turned the knob, I realized that I had left it in the locked position. Scratching my head, I stood there for a second thinking I was going to have to call a lock smith because my land lord does not help with these kind of issues.

Then a light went off in my head. I opened the window in the hallway, crawled out on to the fire escape, and up to my kitchen window. Fortunately I had left the window cracked (double pane locking). I pulled out my 18 dollar CRKT M16 EDC, and used the tanto blade to wedge it under the window screen, and pop it off. Opened the window, and crawled through into my kitchen. No damage to the screen, only minor inconvenience to myself. That 18 dollar knife probably saved me a couple hundred dollars on a late night locksmith, and hours of waiting.

-Freq
 
I've posted this story before, but here it is again.

A while back some friends and I had ordered a pizza. Upon delivery we opened it up, and to our complete surprise we were looking at an uncut pizza. Before that day I'd never seen a pizza delivered uncut.

We were at the apartment of one of my friends (were we at mine this wouldn't even have been a hiccup) and all she had were plastic knives and forks. Beyond my second surprise that she didn't actually have any silverware, I was stunned when she started to try to cut it with a plastic knife.

I motioned for her to stop, and for everyone to step ten feet away from the pizza. I pulled out my enormous 6.25 inch Izula and proceeded to slice the pizza. Needless to say, everyone in attendance (all girls) were both impressed and fearful of its size.

After they were done watching this manly task, they quickly clamored about me to congratulate and fondle it. I smiled and put it back in my pants.

Amusingly, one asked if the Izula came in pink.
 
My Grandpa always had a drawer full of pocket knives and I used to just stand there and look at them. He gave me a few along the way but when I was about 13 he gave me his crown jewel. It was a really old John Primble and one of the best condition knives he had. I carried it and showed it off for quite some time. I was fishing on a railroad trestle one afternoon with 3 friends and I loaned it to "Gordy" to cut some line. Well before I knew it I heard a KERPLUNK as he had dropped my beloved Primble into the river! I was paralyzed and figured that was it. Sitting there in despair my friend knew I was sick and he felt awful. All the sudden one of the other guys yells LOOK! We looked down and when the sun came out from behind the clouds you could see a sparkle at the bottom of the river. I didn't have to say a word and Gordy was in the water being guided to the knife by us above. He came up with it like a Grizzly with a fish and we all had a good laugh. Still got that knife but she's a safe Queen now.

primble.jpg
 
A few years back my daughter worked at a restaurant. She always packs a knife and I had given her a Spyderco necklace as well. A customer noticed the necklace and asked "is that a knife on your necklace?" she said yes, then he asked "is that a knife clipped in your pocket?" and she said yes, then he asked, "who gave you those knives?", she said "my Dad", and he said "remind me to never mess with you or your Dad!"
 
This isn't much of a "story", but I just replied to the "What do you look for in a folder" thread, and I said that what I value most in my EDC knife is utility. I think the following demonstrates what I meant. Currently I'm conducting an archaeology field school, and we are excavating in a wooded area. The other day I was assisting a student in one of the units and during the course of working with the individual I had to use my Swisschamp continually. I used my scissors to cut small roots, the saw to cut larger (some quite big in comparison to the SAK), and the magnifying glass to better view a badly corroded Indian Head penny that we found. If I wasn't troweling I was using the Swisschamp. By having the SAK I was able to accomplish many tasks while allowing the other tools to be distributed among the students taking the class. Not that I wasn't aware of it before, but it still made me appreciate my Swisschamp, and afterward it also came in pretty handy in dealing with my lunch.:o
 
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My most recent knife story is this one:

http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/showthread.php?t=749116

Maybe I can bookend that with one from my long distant childhood. When I was seven or eight, I was showing off my grandfather's "civil war sword" (turns out it was just some decorative Knights of Columbus sword but what did I know - heh) to a friend of mine. He was sitting in a chair in front of me and I was standing there with the blade, handle down.

Somehow I dropped it and lest the vicious (mostly unsharpened) blade fall over and cleave my friend in twain, I bent quickly to catch it. Unfortunately the blade hadn't started falling yet and was still suspended point up. Apparently the tip was at least sharp enough to pierce about 1/2" into my frail, skinny little chest.

My grandma, standing right there, nearly had a heart attack (1/2" was practically a pass through - I mean I was *skinny*). Other than a bit of blood and my grandma's near coronary, no real damage was done. As a bonus, I was the only kid in school with a legit sword scar.
 
When I was fifteen, I used to carry a fully serrated Spyderco Endura. Me and my buddy were horsing around, and he said something like "if you do that, then I'll do this." and he threw a fake punch. I said "if you do that, then I'll do this." and whipped out my knife. Then he said "if you do that, then I'll do this." and swiped his hand to grab my wrist but instead slid the palm of his hand across the blade. He dropped to his knees grabbed his wrist and watched the blood pool in hand. It was a deep nasty cut. I apologized and helped him get bandaged up for his trip to the hospital. I felt bad for the guy, but it awesome to see how effective my knife was.
 
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