Just a quick and nostalgic knife story I came across during my nightly content trawl. It is worth a look if you are so inclined.
From Outdoor Life:
The knife Code gave me was pretty much worn out when he put it in my 10-year-old hand. The three-blade pocketknife was down to two and a half. The maker’s mark—“Hammer Brand,” with a manly hand holding a hammer whose heavy head separated the Ms—was barely visible on what was left of the main blade. Code must have snapped it doing chores.
The remaining blades—one about an inch and three-eighths, the other a bit longer—were worn, the tips rounded from being worked on a whetstone.
Code said every boy should have a pocketknife. Now, thanks to him, I had one…
I didn’t care that the metal scale was missing from one side, or that the other side was worn down to flat, bare steel. Code joked that I could trade it if I wanted, but that if I did I should hold it toward the prospective owner with the good side showing, in order to temporarily boost its value. Parting with that precious knife never occurred to me.
Read the whole thing.
Did you buy your first knife? or was it given to you? What was it?
Please let us know in the comments.