This little guy never gets carried. It was given to my mom when I was born in 1972 by an insurance agent.
When I was about 10! I gave myself one of the worse cuts I have ever had on my left pointing finger. As I got older sometimes I would carry it but more than not it was left in the drawer for something “cooler”.
When I went off to college I gave it to my little brother. My brother unfortunately took a path that lead him in and out of several different jails and prisons.
I never really thought about this knife until my mom about 6 or so years ago called me asking if I wanted it.Of course I did. It just lives in my knife drawer but makes me think of simpler times.
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