Our Big, Bad, Treacherous Knife

In a previous post, the Old Baguette described how her father had used their biggest, worst, most treacherous knife to perform an autopsy to determine why Blackie the goldfish had died. (The cause of death? Blackie had swallowed an enormous grapefruit seed.) The blade of the knife my father used was about 14" long and sharp, perfect for carving roasts, chopping onions for meatloaf, shredding cabbage for coleslaw, and apparently for performing autopsies. I was forbidden to touch it. It had, after all, been a weapon.

Late one summer evening, Dad was driving home from the office. It was hot and humid, so he had the windows open. He noticed he needed gas, so he left the Outer Drive, the road by Lake Michigan he took to get home. He knew he was in one of the most dangerous areas in Chicago, but he needed gas. He didn't close his windows. He found a gas station that was open, got his tank filled, and headed back to the Outer Drive. He had to stop for a stoplight, and while he waited for the light to turn green a masked man appeared from nowhere, reached into the car, held a knife to my father's throat, and made a grab for his watch and his wallet. A struggle ensued. At one point, the knife was no longer being held to my father's throat. When the light turned green, the masked man disappeared. The watch and the wallet were gone. My father's hand was cut straight across the palm, and he was drenched in his own blood. He figured he must have grabbed the blade to prevent the masked man from slitting his throat. The cut was deep and bleeding profusely, but Dad was tired and wanted to get home. He shut the windows, got back to the Outer Drive, and drove home. He piled his bloody clothes in a chair and more or less fell into bed. Mother woke up and almost had a heart attack at the sight of the carnage.

When Dad woke up, he went down to the garage to check on the car. The wallet was on the floor by the gas pedal, apparently dropped during the scuffle. Next he found his watch between the door and the driver's seat. When the masked man grabbed for the watch, he got the chain. It broke, and the watch fell inside the car. A week later, Dad decided to clean the back seat of the car. It really was a bloody mess, and there he found the knife, our big, bad, treacherous knife. Dad apparently grabbed it and tossed it into the back seat. He washed it off, and we used it for years. It was out best knife, absolutely our best.