Part of being a boy in the old North End meant having a pocket knife to play "knifesies."

Knifesies was played with the larger blade of the knife open. You'd flip the blade backward from the palm of your hand, so that the blade would stick in the ground near where you and your playmates were kneeling.

If it stuck in, you'd go on flipping it from the back of your hand, then from each finger and thumb in turn, then from your wrist, elbow, shoulder and the peak of your cap.

You'd end up by tossing it over your shoulder to the ground. If the blade didn't stick into the ground on any of these throws, you'd lose your turn at flipping.

If you couldn't afford a jackknife, you'd borrow one from your playmate or ask Grandpa for the loan of his plug tobacco cutting knife.

Back then, most North End boys carried a knife, even to school, but you didn't show it at school or try to carve your initials in your desk.

Boys' knives were used to cut the Y-shape branch from a tree to use in making a catapult for shooting small pebbles.

Recently I lost the tiny one-inch pocket knife that I used to open letters and packages. Daughter Susan bought me a three-inch long Swiss Army knife to replace it. Back in my youth, the owner of a Swiss Army knife was considered to be someone special.

What do you suppose my neighbours would think if they saw me kneeling on my front lawn, tossing an open jackknife off my fingers, even if it is a Swiss Army knife?

Ted Wilcox is a lifetime Hamiltonian with a passion for sports, community and, most of all, family.