I can never forget the heady experiance of getting my first pocket knife. It was more than a treasure that I had been yerning for, but its a vote of confidence from the man who gives it to you. A statement of trust in you not to do anything foolish with it.
I will always remember the day at the little store where my grandad got me a Imperial barlow. In the two years I would carry it, untill dad gave me a scout knife, it was my treasure, but also my learning tool. I had to learn to sharpen it, take care of it, and most of all not loose it. I don't know how often I practiced honing the thin carbon blades, but I got pretty good at it. The barlow was shaving sharp for most of the time I had it. Especially that last year.
By the time I was 12 and dad gave me the scout knife, I already had proven myself to him and grandad, so I was given a nicer knife. That I treated that knife with respect and good maintance, is proven by my younger son Matt, carrrying that same knife over a half century later. It's a bit worn, but still in good shape.
I suppose that a first knife for a young boy should be a smaller version of what his dad was carrying, or a small knife of not great value since it is going to be a learning experiance. The odds are it will get lost, used hard and sharpened alot, and some mistakes will be made. Mistakes resulting in either loss or damage to a knife. I recall reading that is how Dwight D. Eisenhower got to be a fan of the equel end small pen knife. As a boy, Ike was dirt poor and spending money was in short supply. Down at the local hardware store in Abilene the cheaper knives were the smaller knives on the display. Buying a small economical knife left more money for .22 ammo to put rabbit and squirrel on the table. And small game does not require a large knife.
Children learn by observing thier elders, and kids are pretty sharp. The see and learn more than we give them credit for. I don't know how many times I'd watch dad or Uncle Paul fix something in a handy way using a small pocket knife. Like the one time mentioned themostat gasket cut from the bottom of a cardboard Kleenex box, or Uncle paul using a bit of leather from an old belt for a washer. It made an impression that a pocket knife was a handy tool a man carried for life's little emergencys.
It's funny, but back then I don't remember any anti-knife feelings around. A man was expected to have a pocket knife, a handkerchief, and a watch. I recall one old timer of the liers circle that held it's meetings on the front porch of the Jenkin's store. He used to say you could tell what kind a person a man was by his pocket knife. If it had a broken blade he was careless. If it was rusty or dull, he was lazy. If he did not have a knife, he was no account, and really looked down on. The men of the liers circle set a great store by a pocket knife. Most of then carried a modest size knife, a 3 1/4 serpintine jack here, a 3 3/8 barlow there. Matt Rankin had a 3 1/4 serpintine that he used for most cutting chores, including slicing a piece of the hard chedder off the big wedge on the store counter. His Ka-bar little finn he always had on his hip was for game, leagal or otherwise. Being a profesional poacher, it was usually otherwise. A stockman was often sighted, as was other patterns. It seemed to be mostly personal bias that led to a choice of pocket knife. Most all agreed was that you had to have one. It was one of very few things the members of the Jenkins Store liers circle could agree on. All other subjects were open to very lively debate, that may or may not involve gunfire. Matt Rankin was allways resentfull of the bullet hole in his truck.
Sooner or later, we as fathers, uncles, or grandads, have the opportunity to give a young lad his first knife. You know by this point they have been watching like a hawk everytine we've pulled out our knife for something. Being that the presentation of the pocket knife is such a vote of confidence in our young one, its important to give the right kind of knife. Maybe even instead of a new one, make it ne of your own. By this time, hopefully, you and he have spent some time examining the knives in your cigar box that you've accumulated in your life. All are important, and giving one from your cigar box is in some cases even better than a new one from a store. Even better still, let him pick one. It's surprising how the young man in question will already have an idea of what he wants.
I remember the hardware store when I was a kid, it was one of those dusty places with a creaky wood floor, and smelled of mineral spirits and paint. They had nails and nuts and bolts in bins, and you scooped out your own and weighted it and marked the brown bag with the black greese pen there by the scale. Nobody checked you, it was an honnor system. They had this big display case of Case knives. There I would stand with my nose almost pressed against the glass staring in wonder at all the beautifull pocket knives. There was stockmen, jacks, peanuts and barlows. In the center was the bigger folders like elephants toenails, and sheepsfoot bladed sea scouts and whalers. Tuxedo's and little pen knives, toothpicks and daddy barlows. There seemed to be as many different handle materials as knife patterns. There was wood, plain and jigged, bone also plain and jigged exept for the barlow which was saw cut, and stag. A few pearl in the small pen knives. It seemed to be a treasure trove of pocket knives, and I wondered at all the different patterns. It was almost too much for a boy to take in at one time.
Unfortunatly alot of those old patterns are gone from the stores. But its still a thrill to give a young boy his first pocket knife, be it from a store or one of your own. It's almost as good as reliving it yourself. Now all we need is a bench by the courthouse or town park.
I will always remember the day at the little store where my grandad got me a Imperial barlow. In the two years I would carry it, untill dad gave me a scout knife, it was my treasure, but also my learning tool. I had to learn to sharpen it, take care of it, and most of all not loose it. I don't know how often I practiced honing the thin carbon blades, but I got pretty good at it. The barlow was shaving sharp for most of the time I had it. Especially that last year.
By the time I was 12 and dad gave me the scout knife, I already had proven myself to him and grandad, so I was given a nicer knife. That I treated that knife with respect and good maintance, is proven by my younger son Matt, carrrying that same knife over a half century later. It's a bit worn, but still in good shape.
I suppose that a first knife for a young boy should be a smaller version of what his dad was carrying, or a small knife of not great value since it is going to be a learning experiance. The odds are it will get lost, used hard and sharpened alot, and some mistakes will be made. Mistakes resulting in either loss or damage to a knife. I recall reading that is how Dwight D. Eisenhower got to be a fan of the equel end small pen knife. As a boy, Ike was dirt poor and spending money was in short supply. Down at the local hardware store in Abilene the cheaper knives were the smaller knives on the display. Buying a small economical knife left more money for .22 ammo to put rabbit and squirrel on the table. And small game does not require a large knife.
Children learn by observing thier elders, and kids are pretty sharp. The see and learn more than we give them credit for. I don't know how many times I'd watch dad or Uncle Paul fix something in a handy way using a small pocket knife. Like the one time mentioned themostat gasket cut from the bottom of a cardboard Kleenex box, or Uncle paul using a bit of leather from an old belt for a washer. It made an impression that a pocket knife was a handy tool a man carried for life's little emergencys.
It's funny, but back then I don't remember any anti-knife feelings around. A man was expected to have a pocket knife, a handkerchief, and a watch. I recall one old timer of the liers circle that held it's meetings on the front porch of the Jenkin's store. He used to say you could tell what kind a person a man was by his pocket knife. If it had a broken blade he was careless. If it was rusty or dull, he was lazy. If he did not have a knife, he was no account, and really looked down on. The men of the liers circle set a great store by a pocket knife. Most of then carried a modest size knife, a 3 1/4 serpintine jack here, a 3 3/8 barlow there. Matt Rankin had a 3 1/4 serpintine that he used for most cutting chores, including slicing a piece of the hard chedder off the big wedge on the store counter. His Ka-bar little finn he always had on his hip was for game, leagal or otherwise. Being a profesional poacher, it was usually otherwise. A stockman was often sighted, as was other patterns. It seemed to be mostly personal bias that led to a choice of pocket knife. Most all agreed was that you had to have one. It was one of very few things the members of the Jenkins Store liers circle could agree on. All other subjects were open to very lively debate, that may or may not involve gunfire. Matt Rankin was allways resentfull of the bullet hole in his truck.
Sooner or later, we as fathers, uncles, or grandads, have the opportunity to give a young lad his first knife. You know by this point they have been watching like a hawk everytine we've pulled out our knife for something. Being that the presentation of the pocket knife is such a vote of confidence in our young one, its important to give the right kind of knife. Maybe even instead of a new one, make it ne of your own. By this time, hopefully, you and he have spent some time examining the knives in your cigar box that you've accumulated in your life. All are important, and giving one from your cigar box is in some cases even better than a new one from a store. Even better still, let him pick one. It's surprising how the young man in question will already have an idea of what he wants.
I remember the hardware store when I was a kid, it was one of those dusty places with a creaky wood floor, and smelled of mineral spirits and paint. They had nails and nuts and bolts in bins, and you scooped out your own and weighted it and marked the brown bag with the black greese pen there by the scale. Nobody checked you, it was an honnor system. They had this big display case of Case knives. There I would stand with my nose almost pressed against the glass staring in wonder at all the beautifull pocket knives. There was stockmen, jacks, peanuts and barlows. In the center was the bigger folders like elephants toenails, and sheepsfoot bladed sea scouts and whalers. Tuxedo's and little pen knives, toothpicks and daddy barlows. There seemed to be as many different handle materials as knife patterns. There was wood, plain and jigged, bone also plain and jigged exept for the barlow which was saw cut, and stag. A few pearl in the small pen knives. It seemed to be a treasure trove of pocket knives, and I wondered at all the different patterns. It was almost too much for a boy to take in at one time.
Unfortunatly alot of those old patterns are gone from the stores. But its still a thrill to give a young boy his first pocket knife, be it from a store or one of your own. It's almost as good as reliving it yourself. Now all we need is a bench by the courthouse or town park.
