Your Most Special Knife

[JK Knives]

mrbear`s story of his first knife got me thinking, what`s your most special knife? I`ll tell you the story of mine. The year was 1968, the year my mom got sick. My mom had an aunt and uncle, Sylvia and Richard, who had never had children, and were pretty wealthy. They had both worked for the old Western Electric Company in Cicero for many years, and lived in a small apartment in Berwyn. My great uncle Richards passion was fishing, he went to the Hayward Wisconsin area several times a year to fish. When my mom got sick he thought it would be a good idea to take me on one of his trips with him. I remember mom and me walking to the drug store (mom never drove), and she bought me one of those folding fishing knives that Imperial made with the scaler on back, from the cardboard display board. I can remember driving to Wisconsin with my great uncle, his old Chrysler packed with fishing gear, and his Johnson 15 hp motor in the trunk. We had a good trip, that`s when he taught me to flyfish. That year, on Christmas Eve, my mom passed away. My daughter still has that knife, it`s black tin scales missing a lot of their original paint, but still one of the most valuable knives in the world.

 

[mqqn]

Hi Stomper -

I have one that is dear to me for sentimental reasons.

My stepfather, Harold, who passed away many years ago, was a wonderful and decent man.

He loved knives, and always had a small cheap pocket knife with him.

I always loved and respected this man, and wanted to please him as much as I could, so for Christmas one year I bought Harold a Case "Red Pocket-worn Bone" pen knife.

I could tell that Harold loved that knife, and he had it with him every time I saw him. The knife got a nice "used" patina, with tape goo on the blade and all. I could see that Harry used that puppy daily (he was a pipe insulator by trade).

Several years later, my mother let it slip that Harry had lost the knife I had given to him, and he was heartbroken about it. Harry did not want me to know that the pen knife was gone and he was trying to find an exact replacement.

I went to the old-fashioned hardware store I know of in town that had one of those old wooden-box, glass-covered counter displays of Case knifes (which is still there today by the way...) and checked out the knives. The counter man told me they did not have the knife I wanted, but they could order one and sure enough, a few days later they called me and had an exact replica.

I gave Harry that knife to replace the original.

About a year later, the original knife showed up, laying in the basement near where the dirty laundry was dumped out of the baskets.

When Harry passed away (from mesothelioma from years of working with asbestos) it was a sad time for all of us - I still get very sad thinking about this loss.

My mother made sure that I received Harry's pen knives; he still had both of them.

I kept the original knife, being able to identify it due to it's greater patina, and I gave the second knife to Harry's blood grandson as I thought he should have his grandpa's knife.

I'll have that old case until I die, and it will go to my son for him to have, along with a note about why this knife is so special.

It was nice to read your story, Stomper. I promise to take a picture of the red pen knife and post it here, and it would be cool to see a picture of the knife your mother bought you....

best regards -

mqqn

 

[rooikat]

All my stories are pretty lame compared to these two.