Old Remington Knife...shades of Scout Master Van

Absintheur

Absintheur

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I made a stop I hadn't for a while at a "antique" (read junk) shop and while I wasn't really looking for anything in particular I decided to stop on a whim. If there hadn't been parking right in front of the store I wouldn't have bothered. But parking was there and I stopped and went in. Walking up and down the isles just scanning the items offered I wound up at the front counter. Was a bit excited to see several older carving knives and thought it would be nice to pick up some old stag but all were faux stag. I was getting ready to head out when I looked in a box of junk knives with a sign "Your pick $5". I stirred them with a finger, saw rust, dirt, and a lot of broken blades and starting walking out when a nagging thought struck me. Did I see a Scout knife in the box? I stood with my hand on the door for several seconds and I swear I heard a voice telling me to go look again. Sure enough there was a grimy, dirt encrusted and rusty scout knife style in the box. I wiped the grime off the shield and sure enough the Scout emblem was there. Breaking off both thumbnails (I completely forgot about the Bulldog opener on my keychain) I managed to get all 4 blades open and they were complete and unbroken under the rust. I managed to clean enough grime off the tang of the main blade to see the circle stamp. Well I ponied up the $5 and walked out. When I got home the cleaning started, wanting to remove rust but not steel I used every trick I knew to expose the hidden steel. To my amazement I was holding a Remington Scout knife made between 1924 and 1933. The cleaning continued and I have stopped at the point you see in the pics below. (I am sorry I completely forgot to take before pics but I am sure you all can imagine what it looked like)

Why did I stop that day? I don't know...I was actually running a bit late and ended up buying dinner instead of making it for Pop. Why did I go back and look again? No answer for that either. I did reread most of the Mr. Van stories just a few days ago...perhaps it was his voice I heard telling me to look again knowing that I would be someone to rescue the long lost and abused Scout Knife. The screwdriver/lifter blade has a light tweak but the main is 98% there. The can opener and awl are both 100% At any rate it is once again ready to be used as intended. The main blade came up to a hair shaving edge very easily and while I intend to do a bit more cleaning inside it is ready for use. It walks and talks well now that oil has been worked into the joints and I know it has stories to tell. Thanks Mr Van...this old Scout will try to make it right once again.

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It even still has the bail!:thumbup:
Great find!!:cool:
I'll cough up $10....double your money!!
 
What a wonderful knife and story to go with it!:thumbup:

I am also a bit jealous of your find but knowing this knife now has a home makes it all good.

Thanks for sharing, something about a scout knife that tugs at most of us.

Ken
 
knowtracks said:
I was just yankin your chain.:D
Click to expand...

I know...lol...

And no need to worry about the Scout being lonely, when it is not being carried it will rest next to this 3 blade Remington Jack from the same time period. I re-arranged knives to allow them to be together on the shelf. I just had to take a pic of them together...

remstogether.jpg


ken erickson said:
Thanks for sharing, something about a scout knife that tugs at most of us.

Ken
Click to expand...

They do at me, that's for sure. I was a Boy Scout but sadly quit before making Eagle...something I will always regret.
 
That's a great knife. Thanks for showing it.
 
Thanks for sharing that great story. I 'love going into a shop and finding something like that. There still out there.
 
All I can say is go to the small towns far away from the big interstates, everyone just about will have an "antique" store. Open drawers in the old desks and bureaus, look through the boxes of junk...and listen for that voice in your head because often you will see something and not realize it but that little voice will remind you if you are willing to listen to it.
 
man what a find, sometimes i think we knife crazies have the subconcious tugging at us when a goodie is near. if you are looking at antique furniture, see if any old sewing machines are there. check the drawers since old ladies sometimes had a sharp pen knife with sewing machine to trim off buttons. friends have found some nearly mint oldies that way.
 
I was hesitant to give five for it the way it looked but I knew it was a Remington and even if the knife was a total loss the bone was very nice.

Btw...the rest of the box really was junk with stamped bolsters, broken blades, shrunk plastic scales...I did look carefully the second time.
 
Everybody seems to have these stories of pulling a diamond from the rough. I haven't had any luck yet. Perhaps I should go look up the German word for "antique."

At any rate, that's a beautiful, old knife. Congrats!!


edit: antique--antik
 
Well...the Scout performed it first cutting job tonight...I suppose it was simple irony that it was the handiest knife I had on me went I went to open that box of Girl Scout cookies I bought tonight...smiles...

btw...iof you haven't tried the Thanks-A-Lot cookies you are missing out!
 
OH MY GOD!

Seeing that knife is like seeing a ghost from the distant past materialize right in front of me. A feeling of an almost physical shock at seeing what I can only desribe as a down at the heels twin of Mr. Van's knife. My minds eye brought up the image of a tall silver haired ex-marine with every hair of that perfectly trimed moustache in place, and that strait backed parade ground walk. I must be getting a cold, for some reason my eyes seen to be watering a bit and my nose got a little sniffy.

Damm!

I think I'll go make a toddy.
 
Damm, I had to come back for another look.

It's a funny thing what the mind holds in it's memory. Little things, like how Mr. Van was never ever late to a scout meeting. At one minute to the top of the hour, we would hear the familiar footsteps in the hall, and he's walk in before the second hand reached the 12 o'clock. Even in a red and black checkered wool shirt and forest green malone pants and brown Chippawa boots, he still looked like a Marine. The way he'd scan the room and look us over with those grey-blue eyes that seemed to bore right into your inner soul to check for any moral transgressions since he'd seen you last. I think Mr. Van was an expert at reading inner souls.

One toddy down and after one more it's off to bed and dreams of times long past.
 
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