What is your first knife memory?

My dad was not an outdoors or knife guy and I had three older sisters and no brothers. I remember seeing a display of Cub Scout and Boy Scout knives in a small-town clothing store that was owned by one of my dad's buddies. I wanted one, but was told you had to be a Cub Scout to buy one.

I got an allowance as a kid and also worked in my uncle's grocery store. I decided to save up some money and bought a beautiful Case camp knife --it looked just like one of those Boy Scout knives!-- at the local outdoor store. I lost it that winter. I found it in the spring but, needless to say, it wasn't in very good condition.

I decided on something a little more pocketable to replace it: a Schrade 895 Rancher (med. stockman). That was in 1975-6 and I still have it today. It was all downhill from there... ;)

 
When I was about 8, I got my first knife. It took about 2 hours for me to do something stupid and fold the blade on my finger. I learned then that folding knives "fold", and I have not worried about spine whack tests since.
 
Got this big ole hobo on my 5th bday. Along with a small pack, and army surplus style canteen and mess kit.

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My dad always had a knife when I was growing up. Typically a Case folder but also a Buck fixed blade when we went camping and later a Buck 110. My first knife was when I joined Cub Scouts like many of us which meant I just had to have the official knife. I do remember as a young kid just how hard it was to open :)
 
During our holiday in Switzerland. I must have been 6 or 7 when my father bought me my first personal knife, a SAK of course, with my name engraved on it. I was so so happy and that's the moment when the knife passion began, a joy that we all here seem to share! Oh sweet memories!
 
During our holiday in Switzerland. I must have been 6 or 7 when my father bought me my first personal knife, a SAK of course, with my name engraved on it. I was so so happy and that's the moment when the knife passion began, a joy that we all here seem to share! Oh sweet memories!
At six or seven I knew what a SAK was. I also recognized that only one SAK model was what the troops carried and even then I wanted to know which one it was.

I still have memories of spotting the differences between Vic and Wenger products.

Much simpler times back then.
 
Another grandpa story, Mid 60's in Boulder Co. He always had a pocketknife handy and a small knife collection, I treasured my visits.
Fast forward, He worked in a coal mine and died young when I was a kid in Ca. I was told I would receive his knife collection. I
received a small penknife that said Dow Chemical Co on it..blue on a white knife. I believed they were the mine owner but not sure.
I later heard that his brothers packed and sent the collection and I really resented only getting that little knife but that was then.

I now completely understand His brothers keeping the Westerns and whatever and just wish I still had that penknife.
Thats why I love knives. James
 
Well I have two that are intermingled as first in my memory:

When I joined the Cub Scouts my mom took me to the mall to get the hat and shirt (JCP - I think) and they had a display with Boy Scout and Cub Scout Knives. This was many moons ago so having a knife display at a JCP was not that strange. I wanted the Cub Scout knife badly, but we were working class so it became a Christmas list item that took a couple of years of pestering to get. I carried that knife for years, even occasionally as an adult.

The other was my dads fishing knife. At the bottom of his tackle box laid the evil. It was a very old and cranky Opinel type of wood handle folding knife. My dad was notoriously “thrifty” and this knife had seen it’s better days before Eisenhower. We went fishing at the crack of dawn and it was always cold, so to open and use the knife you had to turn the jacked up collar that was reluctant to rotate with small cold hands and then secure it open, and it seems like that collar situation always bit me. That thing had a voodoo to it. To this day I don’t like Opinels, but suppose I should give them a try at some point.
 
The first knife I can recall having was a flea market type dagger that my brother bought me when I was probably around 5. It had an engraving of a black widow on the handle. It was duller than a butter knife, which was probably a good thing. I carried it everywhere for a long time until I finally broke it after probably hundreds of throws.
 
My first "knife memory" did not involve any knives.

I was at day care, maybe 5 or 6. The older boys took a toy razor out of a shaving kit and gave it to me to fight off the "monsters" (a role also played by them). When they first ran at me, i didn't get it. Then one took me by the wrist and made me slash him across the chest, he then fell back (dead monster). I swear a heard a choir of angels sing, I was holding something amazing. Obviously didn't know the word but, immediately, understood the idea of a "force multiplier".

Right after that, my Dad (RIP) got me a small Old Timer with two blades, it is lost now BUT his best friend bought me a Case XX (39yr ago) that I still have.

Still currently train in FMA, that moment in daycare changed me forever.
 
My first knife recollection is pretty vague. I had to be five or six, because my pop was still driving the Plymouth, and hadn’t yet bought the ‘54 Ford Country Sedan that became the best-remembered family car of my childhood. The knife was a multibladed folder with dimpled metal scales, that I would now remember as a demo knife, although it could easily have been a cheap fake, if such a thing were possible. The only thing I can clearly remember doing with it is throwing it so it would stick in the ground, over and over and over.

I must have put it in my pocket a few times, but I never carried it regularly or considered it an important thing. It must have come from my parents, as I had no clue how or where to buy it for myself. My pop didn’t carry a knife or own a gun.

The next knife I remember was the gravity knife I picked up somehow after seeing “West Side Story” on Broadway. I carried it for a couple of years at age 12 or 13. It became my first fidget toy. I do not recall ever cutting anything with it.
 
I love the West Side Story reference. Bad public relations for knives, but a great show. The play won three Tony Awards and the movie won ten Academy Awards; most ever for a musical, I read.
 
I love the West Side Story reference. Bad public relations for knives, but a great show. The play won three Tony Awards and the movie won ten Academy Awards; most ever for a musical, I read.

When you’re a Jet
You’re a Jet all the way,
From your first cigarette
To your last dying day.

You’re never alone
You're never disconnected.
You’re well protected.
 
First memory is my father showing me the proper way to hand back a knife, as he was skinning a Moose........ Second is a kid howling as he opened his thumb with my folder. We where kid Army Cadets camping at a lake.
 
My first memory was heading off to the first grade with my dad and him handing me one of his well used Case two blade folders at the front door of the school.
“Well” he said. “You’re starting school so I guess it’s time you started carrying a knife”
At that time, no one ever batted an eye at a kid carrying and using a knife in school. It was almost expected.
It will always be my most favorite of knife memories.
 
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My Dad always had a Buck 112 on his belt.

He was a civil engineer for the NRCS and was an early riser. He would wake at 4:00, make his breakfast and eat alone while listening to the AM radio.

After eating, he would prepare his lunch and pack his non-insulated lunchbox, then fill his Thermos with cheap coffee. Afterwards, he would wash, dry, then put away all his dishes. He never left a mess.

On very rare occasions I would wake up early with him, and eat with him. We talked a little, not much though. My Dad was very adamant about being respectful to my Mother and Sister who were still sleeping.

One time he pulled out his Buck 112 (it was well loved and worn down from multiple sharpenings), and then pulled out a whetstone. He spit on it, then showed me how he sharpened by making small, circular grinding motions in the slurry.

He then handed it to me. I distinctly remember enjoying the spitting part (I was very young), and how patient he was coaching me on the technique.

I don’t remember if I got it sharp or not. Don’t really care. I do however, treasure that memory very much.
 
My first memory was heading off to the first grade with my dad and him handing me one of his well used Case two blade folders at the front door of the school.
“Well” he said. “You’re starting school and I guess it’s time you started carrying a knife”
At that time, no one ever batted an eye at a kid carrying and using a knife in school. It was almost expected.
It will always be my most favorite of knife memories.

Oh man! Back when I was in grade school (~ 1956 or so), someone started a fad going around for recess. Everybody - at least nearly all the boys - started playing a game we called "stretch". You stood facing someone - then flipped your knife into the ground by their foot. They had to stretch their foot over to where the knife stuck in the ground.
It didn't take long for us kids to figure out that if we tossed the knife 10 feet or more away & it stuck, we'd win the game.

So - here we are - a few hundred kids - age 6 to about 11 running around tossing knives all over the place - in the schoolyard!
We're not talking tiny little knives here either. A lot of the kids found out that bigger knives were a lot easier to "stick" in the ground, so, we had a lot of 5, 6, 7-inch knives flying around!

The other cool knife thing back then was if you got a Cub Scout badge or new piece of equipment, you got to go in front of the class and show it off!
You were Charlie Potatoes for the day when you got your Scout knife and got to show it off!
 
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