Memories of Papaw and my favorite pocketknife | Ken Blevins

Papaw was the first person to ever give me a real pocketknife. He was my mother’s father, Mr. K.C. O’Kelley. He held degrees in education from Mississippi State and Georgia and a master’s from the University of Wyoming.

Supposedly he and my grandmother were the first married couple to graduate from Mississippi State. I’ve never double-checked that but it’s what I’ve always been told over the years. The knife I received was a small three-bladed Camillus. The handle resembled black faux antlers, probably made out of Bakelite and was just over 2 inches long with the blades closed.

Papaw had snapped off the tip of the longest blade, probably to make it less dangerous for me to use or keep myself from sticking it in my hand. I’ve always expected that this was done at my mother’s request in order for her to allow him to give it to me. I was six years old.

I’ve never forgotten that day walking back through the dining room, just past the laundry room and into his small office. He called me back there to see him. He was seated at an old metal desk probably from a school he taught at. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the knife to hand to me and asked me to be careful with it and not use it in unsafe ways. Being six, I was scared to have it in a way. I was worried about cutting myself or worse yet, losing such a treasured gift I had been given by my Papaw.

Over the years, I have had all kinds of pocketknives that I’ve carried at times and unfortunately, I’ve also lost my fair share of them. My misfortune though I’m sure turned into someone else’s new treasure.

I love giving knives as gifts to my close friends and family. My father and I carried small matching bone handled single bladed Texas toothpicks for years. I misplaced mine at some point, but I believe my nephew, Jack, has my dad’s knife. It seems that so many different cultures have superstitions toward the gift of a knife. Some cultures feel it is bad luck and can cut the ties of a friendship between the giver and receiver. I always liked to either give a coin with a knife or ask for one in return. This allows the receiver to buy the knife from the giver to help to keep the bond together between the giver and receiver and not cut the ties of friendship. Other cultures see it as a show of power and respect.

Carrying a pocketknife has always been a plus for me. You never know when you might need it or someone might need to borrow it. I’ve been on several assignments when it was needed that’s for sure. One of my favorites was a shoot at GLOW Academy when Emeril Lagasse had spent the day with the girls to open a new kitchen area. When it got time for the ribbon cutting the giant scissors were just not cutting it. I pulled out my trusty pocketknife, handed it over and the ribbon cutting was back on without a hitch.

I still have that small knife Papaw gave me. I don’t carry it that often. It has earned a spot in a special place. Hopefully, I won’t ever forget where it is or carelessly misplace it while in use. I’ll be able to be able to pass it on to my grandson or granddaughter at some point, and I can share its story with them.

This article originally appeared on Wilmington StarNews: Memories of Papaw and my favorite pocketknife | Ken Blevins