Sovblocgunfan
Member
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2014
- Messages
- 1,483
My dad is 72, and grew up around ranchers for most of his formative years. He was the little kid who mostly got picked on by a brother and cousins. His family had a few fairly large ranches in west texas until the 1970’s. He had a favorite uncle named Frank (he was “Uncle Big” to my dad) who taught him a few valuable life lessons, and showed him a kindness or two also.
One day, my dad was catching heck from his tormentors-had been all day, and had about had enough. Dad could fight, and was about to throw hands. He was about to get started when his uncle Big came over from the spot where he had been digging a couple of post holes and laid a hand on his shoulder, and guided him off around the corner and under a shady porch. Told him to park it in the chair there, and just cool his heels for a bit. Uncle Big sat down next to him and took a break from his post hole work. Showed my dad a new Case stockman that he’d been showin’ off and braggin about all day. In those days, many men preferred small ones. And this one had yellow handles.
Well, after about 10 or 15 minutes dad’s brother and cousins came around the corner wondering where everybody went.
Uncle Big spoke up, explainin that he was taking a break from his post hole work, but was sad to report that nice, shiny new Case had gone down one of those holes! He liked the knife, but didn’t really want to go back and hunt it down. But he said that if the boys wanted to go dig it up, they were welcome to keep it. Well, my dad’s brother and cousins took off in a cloud of dust!
Dad got up to join them, but was held back by a hand from Uncle Big. “Just have a seat here. You’ll see why later.”
well, they talked about everything under the sun for the next 30-45 minutes. Time with a favorite uncle is indulgent, don’t ya know. Shortly, a terrible smell came from around that corner where the post holes were, and brother and crew followed. They reported they had dug around in those post holes all the way to the bottom, but never could find that knife. Too bad! But to make matters worse, they had gleefully ignored the fact that Uncle Big had filled those holes with horse manure. They were COVERED in it.
So. Uncle Big took out a little revenge in defense of a small boy. And never really lost that knife after all.
Uncle Big died several years later when a tractor rolled on top of him. Dad asked for that knife, and some other things, but Big’s personals had disappeared by the time people were willing to discuss it.
I wanted to try and replicate that knife for my dad, and give it to him as a gift-I looked and looked, and tried to do as much homework as possible. I tried to select a knife that was close to what Dad remembered, and in the end I chose a Case 4333 SS in a color called Sunflower synthetic.
Dad received his knife today and was absolutely over the moon to tell me about it. It is as close as he will ever come to the actual knife, and he reports that I absolutely nailed it. Even the color of the handle looked right (he had seen the pale yellow synthetic and said “too pale-that’s more like banana pudding!)-confirmation of the color makes me think the knife actually had bone scales dyed yellow.
Anyway, a good story and a neat knife.
One day, my dad was catching heck from his tormentors-had been all day, and had about had enough. Dad could fight, and was about to throw hands. He was about to get started when his uncle Big came over from the spot where he had been digging a couple of post holes and laid a hand on his shoulder, and guided him off around the corner and under a shady porch. Told him to park it in the chair there, and just cool his heels for a bit. Uncle Big sat down next to him and took a break from his post hole work. Showed my dad a new Case stockman that he’d been showin’ off and braggin about all day. In those days, many men preferred small ones. And this one had yellow handles.
Well, after about 10 or 15 minutes dad’s brother and cousins came around the corner wondering where everybody went.
Uncle Big spoke up, explainin that he was taking a break from his post hole work, but was sad to report that nice, shiny new Case had gone down one of those holes! He liked the knife, but didn’t really want to go back and hunt it down. But he said that if the boys wanted to go dig it up, they were welcome to keep it. Well, my dad’s brother and cousins took off in a cloud of dust!
Dad got up to join them, but was held back by a hand from Uncle Big. “Just have a seat here. You’ll see why later.”
well, they talked about everything under the sun for the next 30-45 minutes. Time with a favorite uncle is indulgent, don’t ya know. Shortly, a terrible smell came from around that corner where the post holes were, and brother and crew followed. They reported they had dug around in those post holes all the way to the bottom, but never could find that knife. Too bad! But to make matters worse, they had gleefully ignored the fact that Uncle Big had filled those holes with horse manure. They were COVERED in it.
So. Uncle Big took out a little revenge in defense of a small boy. And never really lost that knife after all.
Uncle Big died several years later when a tractor rolled on top of him. Dad asked for that knife, and some other things, but Big’s personals had disappeared by the time people were willing to discuss it.
I wanted to try and replicate that knife for my dad, and give it to him as a gift-I looked and looked, and tried to do as much homework as possible. I tried to select a knife that was close to what Dad remembered, and in the end I chose a Case 4333 SS in a color called Sunflower synthetic.
Dad received his knife today and was absolutely over the moon to tell me about it. It is as close as he will ever come to the actual knife, and he reports that I absolutely nailed it. Even the color of the handle looked right (he had seen the pale yellow synthetic and said “too pale-that’s more like banana pudding!)-confirmation of the color makes me think the knife actually had bone scales dyed yellow.
Anyway, a good story and a neat knife.
