Things Graf #5

Things graf# 5

When I reach into my left hip pocket, I will always find my Leatherman. I call it my “knife”. I have had it for just over nine years now and it is always with me. It was a gift from my best friend, to his best man, on his wedding day. It reminds me of what a beautiful day that was next to the ocean. And how much I miss he and his wife (another close friend) and wish I could see them more. They have moved away and we only talk on the phone occasional. This knife, oh this knife, we have seen a lot. I have used it to cut seat belts at car crashes to remove victims hanging upside down in their cars on the side of the interstate. Cut away rope from the propeller outside Camden harbor when it was blowing twenty five knots straight out of the harbor and I had a full boat load of passengers. Screw, unscrew, loosen bolts, file sharp metal edges, open cans, open locked doors. You name it, my knife can do it, but mostly I use it to pick my nails. It has gotten me out of some tough spots. Once I uses it to snip wire that had tangled around my air-pack preventing me from getting out of the house fire I was in when I was running low on air. That was a close one. That knife saved my butt. I often notice the weight of it in my pocket and I think I should get a smaller knife. But then I use it somewhere that no other tool will work or it will take too long to go get the proper tool. It has become a part of me. I don't feel right when I can't feel it in my pocket and I notice that it's not there immediately. But most of all it reminds me of my best friend, and the number of times, directly or indirectly, he has gotten me out of a jam.