My Favorite Knife
Our town had a mom-and-pop hardware store when I was a boy. They sold the usual assortment of plumbing supplies, tools, nails, and even some small appliances, but the focus of every kid’s attention was the knife display. It was beautiful. The front glass sloped back and underneath it each knife had it’s own cubby hole, custom made to fit that knife alone. The owner’s wife admonished us to keep our fingers off the glass.
When I was old enough, Dad accompanied me to the store so I could purchase my very first pocketknife. It had a lovely bone handle with two shiny carbon steel blades. Within weeks, they turned black with corrosion as I used the knife for fishing, cutting boxes, and even digging fossils out of some local shale. Sure, I abused it, but I was a kid.
The knife went missing when I was in college. I replaced it with a cheap folder with a stainless steel blade that could hold an edge for as long as several minutes. A stiff breeze made the blade go dull. There was a reason it was cheap.
Dad said I should get a good knife, and as he was a tool and die maker, he suggested 440C stainless steel. I knew nothing about it, but I learned that it’s a high-carbon stainless steel that is the hardest of all stainless steels when heat treated properly. Like most stainless steels, it resists corrosion, particularly when polished. It’s even magnetic, unlike some other stainless steels.
By chance, a neighborhood yard sale turned up a quality blade. The family had a sporting goods store that went out of business, and they were selling the last of the stock. I found a lovely fixed blade knife with a polished wood grip. There was no maker’s mark, just “440C Stainless Steel” etched at the base of the blade. The edge lasted longer than my first marriage.
The knife went on countless hunting and fishing trips and even served as a kitchen knife on occasion. Bachelors are not known to be choosy about kitchen implements. But a truly lovely young woman entered my life and my outdoor adventures gave way to kids and strollers. I found the long-forgotten knife was at the back of a drawer while bundling some old clothes for the local thrift store. The blade was scratched but still as sharp as ever. The sheath and grip are worn. Simply holding it brought back a wealth of memories.
I gave it to my son today. He’s old enough to appreciate it and young enough to collect some special memories of his own.