This post about a pocket knife that belong to my Pa (grandfather) and about another pocket knife that belonged to my dad is a memory of some simple things in life that mean a great deal to me and covers over 50 years in time. It is also about another pocket knife that will also mean a great deal to me for a different reason. Maybe the two memories mean so much to me for the same exact reason.
I was the last baby boy born into the Lee family. As such, not to be bragging but just stating fact, I was spoiled rotten by my Pa and was special to him. Since I was the baby, I had him all to myself for several years before I started school and we spent a lot of quality time together. He only had a few possessions that meant anything to him and he always told me he wanted me to have two of them. One of these was a simple gold ring that he had worn since he was a very young man and the other was his pocket knife.
About a year before he passed away, my hand had finally grown large enough that the ring he wore would fit my finger and he made me take the ring. I acted like I did not want to take it from him but really I was thrilled to have his ring on my finger. Though my fingers have long outgrown the ring, I still have it in a safe place and will one day pass it on to one of my grandsons.
My Pa’s health was very bad the last several months of his life and one day not long before he passed away as I was standing at his bedside, he tried to give me his knife. But, I told him he might still need it sometime and so I did not take it. When he passed away just a few days later, a relative went to his night stand and took the knife and I never saw it again. This was very hard on me as I knew then and now that he wanted me to have the knife and I regret deeply not taking the knife when he tried to give it to me.
Like almost every many I knew growing up, my dad was also a pocket knife man. He was a Case man and carried a Case Trapper, 2 bladed knife with a yellow handle.He would have about 3 knives in service at any one time. He usually had a relatively new one, in one pocket, the one he used the most in his front jeans pocket and one that was just about worn out with a thin blade that had been sharpened many, many times in his back pocket. All of these knives were razor sharp and would shave the hair on your arm smooth as a baby’s behind.
As happens to many folks who are blessed with long lives, my dad had very poor health in the last few months of his life and ended up in the hospital several times and eventually in a nursing home. I was with him when he was admitted to the hospital for what would be the last time before passing away, I had his clothes and accessories in my possession when this happened. Wanting to make sure that all of his possessions were secure, I immediately took everything he had with him at the time of his admission, including the 3 pocket knives in his pants and carried them to my house. A few days later, after my dad passed away. and after his funeral service, I gave one of these knives to my brother, one to a nephew and grandson of dad, and I kept one for myself. I was going to make sure that I did not lose my dad’s knives like I had my Pa’s.
I now have this knife, along with a few others that mean a lot to me in a small display case in my office or man cave that I look at each and every time I am in there.
Then today, I got a call from the wife, actually the widow now, of one of the best friends I ever had. This dear friend and I had worked together years ago in Calhoun county and were best friends during the years we worked together. We both loved the outdoors and we hunted and fished together often. In addition, we spent many days and nights together with our wives traveling, dining out, going to the beach and just visiting with each other. Even after I moved, we remained very close friends over the years. Tragically, he passed away at the age of 61 a little over a year ago. When he died, a piece of me died with him as it was like losing a brother.
Upon answering the phone and spending a few minutes just chatting and catching up, she told me the reason she called me and that was to tell me that she wanted me to have a couple of my friends pocket knives if I would like them. Obviously I told her I would love to have them if she wanted me to have them.
These two knives will always, as long as I am alive and able to know what is going on, have an honored place in my small display case right by my dad’s knife and the others in the case. I will look at them often and recall the love for my dad and my friend.
Though they may not be very valuable to anyone else, they will be priceless to me.
Bill Lee 
Wow! I enjoyed your story so much! Brings back many memories of my grandfather. I remember when he passed , I received two pocket knives from him. A old Barlow, and a case bulldog, that I still have until this day. I remember many times as a young boy, grandaddy would peel me suger cane with these knives and sit around and talk about life. I learned a lot about hunting and fishing, and all the important things guys talk about during these times. Some people may think that were just old fashioned , but these were some of my most cherished memories as a young boy. I also was given a few items form other people in my life that helped shape me to become a better man . You may have long FORGOTTEN? Many years ago , my brother passed away in a car wreck. It was a terrible time for my family and I. I remember you coming to the house to pay your respects to me and my family. You called me outside before you left in the driveway. And put your arm around me . You handed me a single silver cross., and shared a few words with me that would stay with me forever until this day. You told me if I would find the meaning behind this cross, and trust in it , I will have found the true blessing in this life. I’ll have to admit , I pondered on your words for some twenty years. But , today I’ve found that meaning, it rests I Jesus Christ. I do think think you could ever believe the impact your words had on me that day. That cross is long gone now. I passed it in to another friend, that had lost a sister in and accident a few years later. I done my best to share the same words as you did with me. I wonder often where that old cross is today? For me? It will forever be in my heart. I’ve always just wanted to say thank you for what you shared that day. It might have taken twenty five years. But, I finally figured it out!
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Tony, Thanks for the comment on the story about the knives but more importantly, thanks for making my day a great one. I certainly remember Brian and the tragedy that your family experienced that night. Still remember too many other families of our Bonifay kids that had similar things happen to them. Those were the most difficult times of being a principal as I wanted to just make the pain go away for the families and had no way to do it. I think of many of you guys often and the struggles some of you had in making the leap from childhood to adulthood. But, God is good and He will be there for us if we just trust Him to do things in His time. Glad you are doing well along with David and I believe Shannon Bowers also from what I hear and see on FB. God bless all of you. Stay in touch and follow my blog by liking it on FB or I will send you an invitation via email.
By the way, I have written a book titled “Dirt Roads Leave Ruts in Your Soul” that you might enjoy reading. Can get it off Amazaon or I have copies and would be glad to get one to you if you will let me know where to meet you or send it. Price is $14.95 on Amazaon or $12.95 from me. I am also have a second book almost ready to publish and it is about school stuff. Some of the stories in this book are about the kids we lost over the years and the impact this had on our schools, the community and the families of those who lost students to accidents. Again, thank you for making my day. Bill Lee
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Thank you again for your warm and heartfelt comments. They made my day as well. I know we don’t see each other much, but I’d love a copy of your book. It’s somewhat ironic , how were just once students. But, now, later in life , we seem to have so much in common. Another of my wonderful blessing is going to church with Mike Anderson. We’ve spent many hours talking of you , and recalling old memories of high school. You guys had your work cut out for you back then. Many of you will always be more than just educators to me. Thanks again , for the many life’s lessons. Some came the hard way! But , all were much appreciated. I’ll get in touch with you on messenger about the book.
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Thanks again Tony and glad to hear you are doing so well in your faith walk. Just send me a message on FB and we will get together for you to get a copy of the book. I almost always have some with me in my truck so if you are in town sometime, get in touch and we will meet somewhere.
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Hey Cuz, thanks for the knife story. Great style that brings back lots of memories. As you know I love knives too and I remember how much uncle Quincy loved his knife and one of his “tricks” that he would pull on those unsuspecting acquaintances was to ask to see your knife and if you handed him your knife he would say, “Will this thing hold a good edge.” and if you said, “Yes,” he would take his knife and put his open blade against yours and act like he was going to see which one had the best edge. Of course his knife was not resting with the sharp edge against yours, rather your knife edge was resting on the unsharpened part of his blade near the scales of his knife. If one was dumb enough to say, “Go ahead,” that one would be the loser. But I never saw one dumb enough to fall for the trick. I also remember him saying, ” I never knew a Murphy with a dull knife.”
Thanks again, I have my grandfather’s and my father’s knives too and I think I shall display them also in a special case. Keep up the great writing. We need good memories every day!
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Vendor, Thanks for the response. The knife you made for me is also in the display case along with the others. I hope you will continue to follow my blog and make comments as they cause me to remember other stuff that may be the subject of some future writing. And yes, dad was a real believer in a sharp knife. To him, if your knife was dull, you might as well not have one with you.
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