What is your first knife memory?

H

Hal

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Feb 26, 1999
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My mom owned an old Plymouth (1940something?). It had a backseat the size of Alaska.
I remember we were driving home from the Supermarket. I was hunkered down in the backseat with the new knife I had just gotten at the vending machine at the market.

They sold tiny little folding knives, made out of zink or some other garbage metal, for about a dime. I was sawing at the back of my hand with it trying to get it to cut.

I remember my mom yell at me not to cut myself - just at the exact same instant I managed to do just that.

I'm thinking I had to have been around 4 years old at the time. (1956)
 
I suspect most responses are going to involve getting cut...

Mine is 1971, on my 5th birthday. I got my first pocket knife that day, and was sitting on the old picnic table we had in the back yard whittling on something. And of course I cut my thumb.
 
My life and carrying a knife were intrinsically linked. My first memories of carrying, using, and owning a knife were in the first or second grade. I bought the knife myself for $0.25 and it was quite a prized possession of mine. I always saved my nickels and dimes in a piggy bank (which I could open up). I feel sure I cut myself a time or two but those memories don't stand out for me. It was a tiny Imperial slip joint and I can still see it in my mind after so many years.
 
My father bought me a small fixed blade knife when we were on on vacation, fishing. I was about 5 or 6 y/o.
I lost it the same day. A a few years later he bought me the knife in the picture. These were sold in the 1960's and had a dull edge.
I have another one from the Catskill Game Farm too.

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My earliest "knife memory" is not getting cut, but more about spending time with my Grandfather. My Grandpa on my Mom's side loved knives, same as me. At his work bench in the basement, he had a wooden tool box that had "samples" of old product endorsement skip joint knives that his father had. I would head down to the basement and check out the old stockman, trapper and peanut patterns. He was also fond of garage sale knives, and had amassed quite a collection of old Premier fixed blades, Normark Big and Little Swedes, pretty much anything that cut and he could buy cheap.
 
I was 6, family was skiing, lunchtime, and we had sandwiches close to the slope, in Switzerland. Found a SAK in the deep snow. Mom wasn't too happy, but dad was proud, showed me how to clean and hand-sharpen it at home. After a while, my mom got used to it and sharpening the kitchen knives became my chore once a month. I've EDC'ed ever since. I sharpen my knives when I have to, but in contrast to many of you, it's not really fun. :)
 
My dad grew up near the old Ulster plant in New York, but was not exactly an outdoorsman who was into knives. For some reason, he did save one old Camillus camper (I guess to remind him of his hometown) which he kept in his office desk drawer. One day, when I was probably ten or so, while visiting him at work, I decided to swipe it. I held onto that knife for many years, but eventually lost it. Like most shameful children, I didn’t have the nerve to tell him I took it, much less lost it. Eventually, I worked for his business as a young man. Somehow one day, he and I got on the subject of pocketknives (he was always supportive of me collecting) and I finally decided to tell him and apologize for that Camillus I stole from his desk and lost. Laughing, he opened his desk drawer and threw the very same pocket knife to me. He said he found it one day in my room, and decided turnabout was fair play. He wanted to see how long it would take me to fess up.
 
My earliest memories of my father and uncles using knives to skin squirrels and rabbits, game birds and chickens. Each one had a knife in his pocket and each one used it responsibly. It made a lasting impression.
 
JPD1998 said:
My father bought me a small fixed blade knife when we were on on vacation, fishing. I was about 5 or 6 y/o.
I lost it the same day. A a few years later he bought me the knife in the picture. These were sold in the 1960's and had a dull edge.
I have another one from the Catskill Game Farm too.

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Click to expand...

JPD, That is a cool knife, Sometimes I see a knife, Hear the story and knives will just start talking. That one does indeed. Hang on tight to that one very cool.
 
When I was about 5 in 1980 I was given an old Barlow pattern. It was either Colonial or Imperial. I tried cutting way too many things with it, fortunately it wasn’t that sharp until I learned to sharpen it a few years later.
The scales came off at some point but that just made it more pocketable. I found a knife that may be it but without scales, I can’t say for sure.
 
Joining the Cub Scouts.......my mother was buying things for me other than my uniform. We went to the store that sold Boy Scout/ Cub Scout products. I saw a Cub Scout knife in a show case. My mother knew I wanted it and said it's time you have a pocket knife. She bought it for me. I don't know where she got the money? My mother probably did without something herself. What I really remember was how happy she was to buy it for me.
 
Great idea for a thread. I enjoy reading such stories :thumbsup:.

It's hard for me to say exactly what my first knife memory is, I was allowed to have knives at a young age, the memories kind of blur together.

I think the two most influential knife memories I have are as follows-

My uncle on my fathers side was what you might call a "rough character" (my fathers side of the family has a colorful history). He was a hard-core biker, and during his visits I would occasionally see him pull out a stiletto switchblade to cut stuff. I saw him with at least two different ones during my childhood. If my mom saw him using one she would scold him and tell him "Put that damn thing away!". She was a tough lady, and she didn't like any knives that she considered to be weapons.

I however was completely mesmerized and infatuated with my uncles knives. And to this day, at the age of 50, the folding stiletto is by far still my favorite style of knife. Mom failed to prevent my attraction to stilettos. She also failed miserably in trying to prevent me from getting a motorcycle.

The other most memorable knife belonged to my grandfather (also on my fathers side). He carried some German slipjoint which he used for everything from cleaning his fingernails to re-wiring a lamp.

Here's an older post in which I spoke in greater detail about my grandfathers knife (further down in the post) https://bladeforums.com/threads/knife-uses-for-pry-bar.1096771/page-3#post-12515802

Sadly I don't have any of the knives I've mentioned here. Lost to the ages. I can't recall what my first knife was, it's been too long, and my memory isn't what it used to be.
 
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I was pretty young but we had just moved to a new house in the city. I was helping my Mom dig in the garden and I found a slip joint buried in there. For a kid this was like finding a lost pirates treasure! It was rusty and the scales were long gone, and I could only manage to open the small blade. But my Mom allowed me to keep it and I still treasure it.
 
Remember it well. I got my first knife on my 5th birthday in 1961, which in my opinion is a bit too young. I was closely supervised with that present and it came with countless warnings and lectures about "keeping the knife in my pocket unless I was going to use it" and "that isn't a damn toy".

One day I saw a bit of plastic overmold on my Mom's dishwashing drain board that was begging for a trim. Little five year old hands couldn't control that genuine Mongomery Wards BSA knock off and I wound up with a series of long jagged cuts down the length of the board that I thought improved its appearance.

Dad didn't think so. He LIT ME UP and took the knife away from me. Got it back on my 6th birthday with a brand new understanding of dear old Dad's advisements! Out of all the knives that have passed through my hands over the last few decades, I still have that knife. I laugh every time I pick it up when I think about the butt whipping I got.

Robert
 
My first pocket knife memory is my grandpa's traditional. It would sit on the table next to him while he smoked his pipe tobacco. As a little kid, I was fascinated. I halfway remember him indulging my interest by cutting a piece of cork or something.

Coincidentally, he gave me my first knife. It was an early-model Spartan. I was a slightly older kid by then and could supposedly be trusted. (I definitely carved my initials into a few things I shouldn't have.)
 
I can remember as far back as my memory goes, my grandfather whittling sticks with his stockman. As I got older, and started hunting rabbits with him, he used the same one to clean them. I’m sure this isn’t the same one, but it’s the last one he had. I carry it sometimes.
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This is a duplicate of my first knife that I bought at 9 years old. I remember carving pieces of tree bark into coins for some game. When my father found out I carried a knife, he was livid, but then, that was pretty much his default condition, anyway. In his sister's memoirs, she told of an event in the 1940's that may have formed my father's dim outlook of my knives. He sustained that outlook until the last time I saw him.

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As a kid (~5) I was taken with the idea of camping and really wanted a Swiss Army knife. My dad always had a knife in his pocket, as a carpenter and roofer he used them as tools.
For my 7th birthday I recieved a Victorinox Passenger. I still have that knife, it was the first of many.
 
My first memories of knives are of playing in the woods carrying SAK's, and later with a Rambo style survival knife that I had picked up from the surplus store (a wonderland as a child). I also have a fond memory of being gifted a Puma folder by a family friend. It was the coolest thing I had ever seen at the time and looking back it's probably the one that sparked the obsession. I carried it proudly for a while before my dad decided that it was too nice for me to risk loosing and set it aside for me. Looking back, he kinda pulled the old "It'll be bofa ours but we'll keep it at my house" trick :rolleyes:. I think I'll ask him about it next time I'm down there. Odds are all these years later he probably still has it in his drawer of knives that he's accumulated over the years (which includes all of the modern folders I've ever gifted him still in the boxes :p).
 
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