All About Pocket Knives

This knife is an old cattle knife made by the New York Knife Company. It was my GGGrandfather’s knife James Jackson Lee. It was in his pocket when he died 8/9/1899 after falling into a sink hole while in performance of his duty as a Deputy Sheriff of Putamn County Tennessee. I would guess most of the wear on this knife was by him due to it being relegated to heirloom status after his death. Attached are some pics of the knife with a newspaper article of his death. I would welcome any insights on this knife. I would also to love to see any stories of any of your special knife.

Great story and great relic to the family, and well-told; thank you! My paternal grandfather was a trader, hunter, trapper, bait man, trotliner, mentor of boys, horse (uh...) trader , and all manner of outdoorsman stuff; he never held a wage job. He was born in 1876 in Coryell County, TX and died at the age of 94. I enherited 2 wolf traps with rare markings, a horn he used to call in his coon hounds, a 00 trot line hook, and a tiny miniature double spring trap used as a tie ornament. But the best thing was this German Boker, which I believe to be his last pocket knife, maybe mfg between the end of WWII and the 1950s? I bought another one to keep the two together. The other relatives got the rest of his items. I also got Grandmother's kerosene lamp. Except for a few basic tools for living, these people were poor as church mice but big on character.

More on Grand Dad Cal Pruett. He made a lot of knives himself to use heavily in his day to day work. I doubt he ever owned a "fancy" knife.

Grandpa Cal Pruett had his OWN grandpa, Matt Davidson, born 1825 on an island off Memphis, TN in a woodcutter's camp. Now HE had some stories which I won't go into. When he got back to Coryell County, TX after the war he built a house (1867). I have a board from that old fallen-down house. In the attic was a sleeping room for two slaves which decided to stay with him after the war. There were gun ports up there and there were some incidents (!). Grandpa Davidson made it to 99 and 11 months; he was looking forward to putting a whole dollar in the plate on his birthday, at the little Pecan Grove church; he almost made it. Sorry about the rant, but a story, you know...

Great stories, Krj and Cal.

I loved hearing about your Grandfather and what a beautiful knife. I love to see a good worn knife because you know it was used. A knife well worn is a life well lived. I made that up and it sounds stupid but I like it.

Those are great knives, stories and photos Krj and Cal .... Just really special given the family history... priceless!!

Ol Gramp's was the real deal from the post too the pic's.
Pretty cool to have pic's of your own blood kin folk that
were real American frontiersman that settled this country.
A great Lone Star state story as well !!!

stag
http://www.allaboutpocketknives.com/stagman

Great stories and great pictures, men!
I only knew my grandmothers, never had the opportunity to experience a grandfather on either side of my family, both passed away in the early 20th century. One in 1907 and the other before 1920, so no old knives to share but I do have some of my dads knives to share with our boys and I'm doing my best to share the knives I use with my grandsons. Maybe they'll one day say, "This is the old Queen that Granddaddy always used skinning deer."
Treefarmer

Great stories!! Thanks for sharing....

Those are great stories! Thanks for posting!

Ray

Cool... love the stories. Thanks for sharing with us.

Mike

Great knife and story!

I've shared this knife before. It belonged to my grandfather (father's father). I only ever met him once, when I was about 8, and we drove across country in 1975 (6 of us, LOL) to California to visit. My grandfather was a poet, musician, gifted leatherworker, ladies man, (drinker), a man of many talents. I'd like to think I got my ability to work with my hands from him. He grew up in the PNW, but mainly Montana, and fished and hunted like many of his generation. He always had guns, fishing rods, knives, guitars, all quality pieces. When he passed away, my parent went out for the services. My dad brought me back this knife, amongst a few others, but this was one that he used regularly. I wish I knew more about him...

I'm glad you got some of his more positive gene's Glen. And knife and memories get better with age.

glennbad wrote:Great knife and story!

I've shared this knife before. It belonged to my grandfather (father's father). I only ever met him once, when I was about 8, and we drove across country in 1975 (6 of us, LOL) to California to visit. My grandfather was a poet, musician, gifted leatherworker, ladies man, (drinker), a man of many talents. I'd like to think I got my ability to work with my hands from him. He grew up in the PNW, but mainly Montana, and fished and hunted like many of his generation. He always had guns, fishing rods, knives, guitars, all quality pieces. When he passed away, my parent went out for the services. My dad brought me back this knife, amongst a few others, but this was one that he used regularly. I wish I knew more about him...

Another great story in this thread. On a roll here...

Ray

I have way too many special knives.Those are the ones that have a back story to them and I have shared them here before. For several years I have been trying to put these stories together in book form;not so much for publication but rather for my own satisfaction.
Knives have been a central part of most of my adult life and the stories that go with them are just as much a part as the knives themselves. One example is this one:

As you may or may not know I was raised largely by my grandparents. My parents were divorced before I was born and as I was later to find out my dad didn't even know I existed until I was about 8 years old.My mother had some serious emotional issues over the divorce and never spoke of my dad;except to tell me his was dead. I guess in her mind he was.
Anyway my grandfather passed away while I was in the Navy and when I got back home a couple years later his house had been sold and anything I owned that had been at the house was MIA.
Over the years I had very little contact with my mother and when she died in 1987 I was relegated with the task of cleaning out her apartment. This was when I discovered my first knife and my grandfather's favorite pocket knife amongst her belongings.
But what was even more important I found some letters that had come from an Aunt Christine of whom I had never heard. There were also some from an aunt I hadn't seen since I was 5 years old. I managed to locate them in upstate New York and we made arrangements to get together. This was when I also found out that I had a half brother(who is also named Ray but has a different middle name) and sister and that my father was still alive! He was living in Florida with his seventh or eighth wife(he wasn't even sure which)and still going strong.
We eventually got together in Florida where my brother also lived and it was quite a remarkable time. When we were getting ready to leave my dad went out into his tool shed and came back with something wrapped in a paper bag. He took it out and handed it to me and said that he had made this knife when he was in the Navy in San Diego stationed on a submarine.This was around 1925 which would have made him 21 years old. I was kind of crude but to me it was priceless.
He was surprised when I reached in my pocket and withdrew a penny and handed it to him. He remember the old tradition but didn't think I knew of it.
Sadly he passed away in 1995 but at least we had a few good years together. He tried to explain to me why he and my mother had parted ways and I simply said:"Dad;what went down between you and Mom was just that.Between you two. All I want now is if we can get along from here on in that is fine.If not well at least we tried."
I still have his picture on my wall of him and the crew of the submarine as well as a picture of him and his last wife.She left us at the ripe old age of 104.She never got over his passing.

Great story....
Is that knife handle a shell casing?
Very cool.

Mike

Love the story, love the knife. Glad you got back together for a while.

Thank you for sharing that remarkable story. Just to have been a submariner in 1925 must have been quite an experience.

A story of a woman during WWII. During the big one most of the men went off to war and the women worked the factories. My grandmother, Frances Lane Jackson, was no different. In the 1940’s she worked in a factory in Algood TN bottoming chairs. She had to have a knife to do her work so she got this Camillus knife that the best I can tell was made between 1945-1950. I don’t know what she used before this knife but if the condition of this knife is any clue she beat the *+%#^ out of it. Only one blade has any snap and the scales are glued on. It also appears she used one side as a hammer. My grandfather wasn’t in the war because he was too young for WWI and too old for WWII. But he acquired 80 acres of land and worked it off half acre a day. During this time he had $0 income and had 7 children to feed. Besides what they grew on the farm Grandma brought home what money they did get. Probably not same time period but this how I choose to tell it. Anyway this is a special knife to me.

Krj, she picked a practical one and obviously it was a tool to her.

Man.... I am loving these stories. Great view into the past when knives were used everyday as tools.

Mike

this is my grandfathers fruit knife.
i can remember, as a child him peeling apple,s with it.
he would take the peel off in one complete spiral.he also cut mushroom stems with it.when we were out walking in the fields.to fry up for breakfast.
it has a nice curved horn handle.i dont know what it started out like. maybe a carving knife

What a wonderful knife, Richard. I bet when the conditions are just right, you can smell that mushroom smell on the knife. Least, that's how I would envision it.

Some great stories fellers really enjoyed them
Don't have grandpa's Queen Congress or dads Cattaraugus barlow, as they along with a small collection of case xx's and other brands, plus my trading and selling knives burned up in a house fire 50 years ago, but I do have moms little Camillus 42 that she toted in her apron pocket. The little cap bolsters are long gone except for one but it's still a sweet little knife with some sweet memories, and sharp as the Dickens.