I am not exactly 'new' to pocketknives, having carried them since age 6. I still have that Imperial Barlow with imitation pearl scales. Later it was a Casexx junior stock knife which is still serving as my odd job knife in my desk drawer. For most of my teens I carried folding fisherman's knives, again by Imperial. I loved these knives, but the blades had a decided tendency to snap at the base. I went through three of them before I had to go to the heavy artillery, a Buck 110.
All of "my" childhood pocketknives were originally my Dad's. He had special favorites of his own. He had a G.I. stainless "Boy Scout Special" from WW II. It wasn't in his belongings when he passed, so perhaps he lost it? He still had his big Imperial 3-blade folder, which he used to fight for his life in an on-post mugging. He had a name for that knife which is unprintable here! He was a medic, stateside, working in a dispensary at a training base. On his way back to quarters he was waylaid by a razor-wielding thug. Dad parried the razor and found flesh with his blade. The mugger ran off. Dad pocketed the razor and hit for home!
When he got to the dispensary his mates were busy stitching up another soldier who had a nasty blade wound to his hand. It appeared as though a very sharp blade had penetrated the palm of the hand, then had been drawn forcefully through the flesh between the metacarpals and out between the middle and ring fingers. The hand had been laid open from near the base of the thumb to the fingers.
Next day Dad was making his morning rounds, emptying urinals, or whatever loathsome task it was. There lay the thug, wide awake and with a boxing glove of gause on his hand. The guy suddenly started to recognise Dad as the intended victim who had cut him up. Dad had the razor in his hand and pretended to pick it up from the floor. He held it out, asking, "Oh... did you drop this?" "N-n-no! It ain't mine!" I still have the razor, too!
I signed on here awhile back but haven't done much with the forum. I'll try to do better in future!