Friday, February 10, 2012

Flashback Friday # 172

Black Pete

Greeting to all those who have ventured this way once again.

The subject of today's post isn't a person. I tend to personify inanimate objects (a trait that I have had as long as I can remember). Anyone who has know me for any length of time has heard me talk to items ranging from cars to can openers.

Getting back to the subject at hand, Black Pete is a knife that was given to me by Sir Gattabout while he was in the U.S. Army. He didn't really give it to me, he traded me. He had given me a Barlow knife & sheath for Christmas. A few months after that he asked if he could have the Barlow back because he could pack that as a personal weapon during the many times that his company went out on maneuvers and training exercises. He told me he would give me another to take it's place. This is what he gave me:

I named it after a villain in several Disney cartoons because it looked somewhat villainous.

Black Pete was the "pocket knife" that most other boys my age carried. As you can see, it's not a pocket knife by any stretch of the imagination. Yes, it will fit in your pocket, but it's a classic fighting knife. It went with me most places, except school. The one time it did go to school with me, I almost got in a whole heap of trouble.

The rivet that held the blade onto the handle had come loose. This made the blade wobbly and unstable. One of the guys in my science class, Terry,(whom you will hear a little more about next week) said he could fix it. He had a relative that was a gunsmith and had learned a lot from him. I bought Pete to school and slipped him to Terry. A few days later, Terry said he had fixed the rivet and slipped Pete back to me. I put him in my coat pocket in my locker.

During my Freshman year, I had the worst possible gym class. It was the last class of the day. You toted all the stuff you were going to take home to gym with you because there was no time to go to your locker after class and still catch the bus home.

This particular day, we finished our activity and hit the showers. Hurrying through the showers, we grabbed up our stuff and scurried to the buses (some in various states of not quite all the way dressed). As I was running down the hall, and almost to the side door (which was closest for me to catch my bus from gym), Pete flew out of my coat pocket and landed at the feet of the shop teacher.

I scooped that knife up like Brooks Robinson scooped up ground balls at 3rd base and kept right on running. I heard a voice behind me bellow "I don't ever want to see that here again, understand me?" I didn't even look back.

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