Crap. My wife gave me a sterling silver pocketknife for our anniversary 10 yrs ago. It was from Tiffany--but that doesn't matter really. What matters is what that knife meant to me. It was in my pocket when my kids were born. In my pocket when my house burned to the ground in front of my eyes. The only thing I made it out with, save my family. Man. That knife held more meaning to me than I could ever put in to words. I got mugged once downtown Peoria and the jerks made off with my wallet and my knife. A few days later I bought it back from a pawn shop! Since then I carried the knife between my butt cheeks so I would never lose it again. Well, today I did. I'm crushed. Hope it went to a good home.
