The knives of my youth, part 1

When I was young, my family owned a hardware store in our home town.  It wasn’t a modern big-box kind of place, but still larger than many of the mom-and-pop hardware stores that dot towns throughout the United States to this very day.  We sold everything from nails by the pound—or half- or quarter-pound for those who didn’t want them to go bad in a cellar drawer—to loose nuts, bolts, screws and washers.  Thumbtacks, rope by the foot, power tools, electrical and plumbing supplies.  Wood burning stoves, fireplaces, some kitchen and household goods.  Just about everything a homeowner or contractor might want with the notable exception of lumber.

We also sold knives.  Lots of knives. 

It started out as a natural extension of the business.  Many people carried simple knives back then, not with the intent to harm others, but just as tools that came in handy for daily living.  We sold Gerber knives when Gerber was still owned by Pete Gerber, as well as knives from Solingen and Scheffield.  Most of what we sold were factory produced and some were handmade by individual knife makers.  As I grew up, I started to buy some of these knives, putting aside part of my weekly wages towards whatever had caught my fancy.  Then my family and friends started giving me some nicer knives as gifts from time to time and my small cache of knives grew into a collection.

Even though I stopped “collecting” in the early ‘90s, I had accumulated a great many knives.  Some were culled from my collection a couple of years ago to finance the purchase of photographic equipment, mostly some production Gerbers.  A last-edition Paul Knife, a presentation Mark I, a camo Guardian II and a few other pieces were enough to buy a medium format Mamiya.  So it goes.

A few months ago, my father wondered aloud about some of my knives, commenting that his brother had sold a few on eBay and made a tidy profit.  I didn’t think much of his comment, or my knives, at the time but gradually began to think that I might want to go through my knives and cull a few more.  There’s always another interest to indulge.

This weekend, I pulled out a few of the boxes of knives I still have to see what I might want to keep and what I might want to sell on eBay.  Here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

  For some unknown reason, I have not one, but two of the discontinued Benchmade model 3000 folders.  These were designed by Mel Pardue, but they’re not my favorite.  The bare aluminum and rubber scales lack any kind of grace or elegance, and they tend to get dirty at the lightest touch.  These are going off to eBay.

  In marked contrast to the aforementioned Pardue folders, these are much more elegant.  The scales are anodized aluminum—not too good for real-world use, but they look good.  They were made by Benchmade but, interestingly, they don’t have any manufacturers’ mark or designation.  I’m keeping these for now.

 

This Elishewitz-designed Benchmade, model 690, was a gift from my wife.  I like this little folder quite a bit and actually carried it on a daily basis for about a year.  The contrast of carbon fiber, Rosewood and blue anodized aluminum is unusual, but I think it is a great design.  Ultimately, I stopped carrying a knife to work so this was oiled and put away for safe keeping. 

 

Here’s another Mel Pardue-designed Benchmade folder, model 850, also given to my by my wife.  As with the Elishewitz-designed Benchmade, this is an elegant little folder that would be right at home with a suit.  The colored titanium bolsters and white micarta slabs are sharp and I like being able to open the knife one-handed.  This one is a keeper, of course.

  This knife is unique.  It was made by a local MFA and blacksmith, Steve Burns, and my father.  My father knew how much I enjoyed collecting knives and how much I wanted a damascus knife—I think I was obsessed with Moran’s damascus knives at the time—so he worked with Steve for a long time learning how to forge damascus.  My father then made the handle out of purple heart and rosewood with a stone pommel and bronze guard.  My father then made a hexagonal box out of rosewood and gave it to me for my birthday or Christmas one year, probably when I was about 17 or 18.

 

Here we have a Pre-Blackjack, Richmond era Ek Model 5 “commando” knife and I have both the leather and woven nylon sheaths.  The hardware store sold Ek knives for a few years in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s.  This was after Ek moved to Richmond, VA, but before the company was sold out (with nearly ruinous results) to Blackjack Knives.  I remember that Ek were slow to come in, and most of the ones that did come in were purchased by a local enthusiast.  I never cared much for the other style Ek knives such as the Models 1-4, but the Mod. 5 always looked and felt like a great handling knife.  This is the kind of knife you might strap onto your backpack if you were going to be bushwacking for a few months, or fighting bad guys in some far-off land.  Since I’m not about to undertake these kinds of activities, I am somewhat ambivalent about this one.  Maybe it will go off to eBay, maybe not.

I can’t tell you how long I saved for this set—Gerber President’s Collection Mark I and Mark II with Sambar stag handles and a walnut presentation case.  Probably six months, maybe a year.  Each week, some percentage of my pay went back to the hardware store in payment for these knives and after a long time they belonged to me.  They were the highlight of all the many Gerber knives I owned and one of the very few I will keep.

I’ve read that Ek imported the H.G. Long knives from England for a few years, which matches my recollection that I received this H.G. Long OSS Lapel Dagger about the same time as the Ek Model 5.  It’s an interesting novelty, but do I really need four of these?  Yes, four.  It’s a long story….

Here’s a Schrade Custom Hunter, in the original box with the promotional flier—retail price, the princely sum of $75!!!—made in Ellenville, NY.  How cool is that?  The only thing this is missing the the sharpening steel that should be in the molded plastic, just under the blade.  Schrade closed their US manufacturing plan a couple of years ago and I’m not sure they’re still in business.  Too bad, really, as this is a nice little drop point hunter.  This is just the kind of knife I would carry with me in the field if I hunted, it fits my hand perfectly. 

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