Knife Stories

Reader Submission Contest: It’s all about the memories

I am extremely pleased at how our 2017 Reader Submission Contest is going. It took a bit to get the ball rolling. but I actually have a couple in the queue at this point. So please keep them coming. You can check out the prize list and particulars here.

It’s All About the Memories:

by Jim B.

  Do you remember being outdoors with your parents…when your Dad took you fishing and you cast your first bait ?  Took your first shot with a 22LR.?  Just went out and cooked your first hotdog over an open fire ?  Those are the memories I have with my Dad’s 1972, Boker Soligen 7588 LTD.

I bought that knife for his Birthday before he passed away a couple of years later. It wasn’t expensive or special at the time, but it was a Limited Edition Soligen  Boker. It doesn’t get any pocket time but does bring back a lot of memories when I look at it and the other knives he carried and worked with. It’s not Mid-Tech or a One Of, but it is to me.

 

It’s the one that brings back the memories of some good times… Jim B.

 

Discussion

3 responses to ‘Reader Submission Contest: It’s all about the memories

  1. It was the Fall of 1965, we were returning home one night after visiting Aunt Junie, who lived about ten miles away. It was dark but fun riding in the back of Dad’s jeep (top was off).
    We stopped just a few yards from the driveway when Dad spotted a large rattlesnake on the road. As we got closer to it, the snake curled up just a bit and began to rattle.
    Dad always carried a Schrade Old Timer or Uncle Henry (I believe it was a 153UH Golden Spike) and he decided to kill that rattler with his knife (so as to keep it from getting into our yard, of course).
    He threw his knife. It stuck deep into the ground, unfortunately, he missed the snake’s head by only a millimeter or so.
    Now the snake curled up around his blade and wasn’t moving.

    What to do?

    Finally Dad took out the tire iron and killed the snake (always called a snake-wrench in my family after that). He cut off the rattles and gave them to me.
    It was a wonderful night.

    The next day I emptied my first grade classroom by shaking the rattles… we all waited in the hall as the janitor searched the room with his mop. I never told anyone what I did until I told my Dad over a decade later.
    Yep, fond memories indeed.

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