Wow, neat story. Spooky. That knife needs a pedestal.
That stock knife that I wrote about earlier that my late sister gave me was my constant deer hunting knife, then one deer season it wasn't in my pocket. I realized then that the knife meant more to me than any deer and I retraced my every step looking for it. The second week of the deer season it rolled out from under the front seat in the truck. I know, just a sentimental old guy, but that knife hasn't left the house since.
