But first, a little about my dad… He was what I have called a hobbyist knifemaker. He loved to attend knife shows with his knife collecting buddies, but he never set up a booth, and I don’t think he ever consigned knives through someone who did sell at shows. His friends were at the shows to buy knives; Dad was there to learn what he could from the knifemakers he met and often bought supplies at the shows. Of course, UPS and FedEx made regular deliveries, too.
Dad did, however, sell knives through the years. Most of those were to friends buying as gifts. He also donated many knives for fund-raising. He was most likely to give knives to his friends.
I remember the last two knives that he ever gave to anyone. We had needed some plumbing work done. This was after Dad’s stroke. Dad called a longtime friend, a plumber. Dad’s friend brought along a guy to help him. They finished up and were saying goodbye to Dad. Next to where Dad sat in the living room was a map chest where he kept many of his knives. He opened it and studied a few of the knives. He called the plumber over and gave him a knife. Then he called the helper over and gave him a knife, too. That spontaneous gift brought tears to the man’s eyes. As they left, the man put his phone number in my hand and said, “If you need anything at all, call me anytime. Your dad is such a good man.” Once they were gone, Dad said, mentioning the man, “I like him. He’s a real good guy.”
My dad passed in 2016. He had suffered from a severe stroke in 2012 at the age of 82. He was not able to work on knives from that time on. Before that, however, he was prolific in the knives he produced. No two were ever completely alike.
He was pretty much self-taught as a knifemaker and didn't begin making knives until after he retired in the fall of 1993. I’m not sure if he began his hobby as early as 1994, but I do know that he was making them by 1995. Unfortunately, Dad did not catalog his knives as to when they were made or the materials that he used.
The first knives that he made were fixed blades. The earliest folders that I have been able to put a date on were from 2001 on.
I am so grateful to everyone who has a Jay Bigler knife. It makes me glad to know how widely appreciated my father’s work is. Knives have gone to collectors in at least 25 states, from coast to coast and border to border.
At Dad’s memorial service, so many men reached in their pocket and pulled out a knife to show me: “Your Dad made this. I carry it every day.” <3
