Knifemaking is the building of a knife, which includes the blade, handle and other accouterments. Blades are made by either removing metal from a steel blank via a grinder – known as stock removal – and the forging to shape of hot steel into a blade in the process known as bladesmithing. Other parts, including bolsters, guards, pommels, etc., are needed to complete the finished knife.
Robert Logan had a scrap to pull off his Tiny Fighter.
ABS apprentice smith and member of the Texas Knifemakers Guild, Robert Logan, has developed a varied catalog over his nearly nine-year career. His work in kitchen cutlery has raised eyebrows in some corners of the knife world. Yet, his smaller projects are certainly worth consideration.
Such is the case with Robert’s Tiny Fighter, a minuscule fighter whose detailed execution is hard to miss—even if it’s no larger than a penny. The knife measures a scant 2.875 inches in overall length, with a 1.6875-inch damascus blade (192 layer 1084-15n20). Setting it all off is a mammoth-ivory handle and a beautiful guard featuring engraving by Alice Carter.
Robert Logan
Robert has tinkered with miniatures previously, making a couple of dozen scaled-down versions of his Mini Cleaver Belt Knife. But the Tiny Fighter, he said, was his first crack at venturing deeper than a simple slab handle in a miniature piece. Without special equipment for the job, it was especially tricky.
“Honestly, the most challenging thing about making tiny knives for me is just holding on to them,” Robert confessed. “I don’t use grinding jigs, so just holding on to the thing to grind, it was hilarious.”
John Dennehy’s replica of his father’s Dan D Alamo Bowie, was accepted by the site on the 190th Anniversary of the historic battle.
We should always remember the Alamo, but 2026 is a particularly good year to keep the battle top of mind. It’s the 190th anniversary of the defining fight for Texas independence, and a fitting backdrop to a father-son knifemaking tale.
When Dan Dennehy donated his custom Dan D Alamo Bowie to the Daughters of the Republic of Texas in 1968, little did he know that a reproduction of the very same knife would be presented almost 60 years later to representatives of Alamo Trust just a few months before the historic anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo.
Made by Dan’s son John, the presentation reproduction is based on the original donated by Dan to the DRT in 1968. Save the engraving on the accompanying brass plaque. John did the entire repro project, which included 5/16-inch O1 tool steel like the blade material on his father’s original Dan D Alamo Bowie, and an embellished oak presentation frame.
Engraved number 5 of 10 by Pearce Richardson, the brass plaque reads: “Commemorative Dan D Alamo Bowie” over “In Honor of Those who Lost their Lives defending the Alamo in March 1836 and to the late Daniel J. Dennehy, Knifemaker, whose Alamo Bowie has proudly been on display at the Alamo since 1968.”
“It’s an honor that we can say we have knives from a father and son in our collection,” Alamo Senior Researcher and Historian Kolby Lanham said. “We are grateful to both Dan and John, two generations of knifemakers who chose to create works of art honoring James Bowie and the Alamo.”
John’s project started soon after his father’s death in 2011.
“The Alamo let me take pictures of Dan’s original knife in the spring right after his death,” he said. “I used those pictures and his knife pattern to make the reproductions. I wanted to jazz up the handle a bit since they are special editions with ivory Micarta and imitation ivory Micarta, along with some brass spacers for bling.”
From his own retelling of the story, Dan was inspired to make the donation during a visit to the Alamo, when he realized the historic site then didn’t have a single bowie knife. The namesake of the blade—Jim Bowie—was among the heroic men who fought and lost their lives at the battle.
The original Dan D Alamo Bowie is displayed inside the lobby of the Alamo Exhibit at the Ralston Family Collections Center, according to Lanham. John’s knife resides in the Alamo’s artifact vault.
There are other storied knifemakers whose works are displayed at the iconic Texas site, including a reproduction of the Joe Musso bowie by BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Gil Hibben.
A founding member of The Knifemakers’ Guild, Dan Dennehy was also a member of the Cutlery Hall of Fame and the International Knife Throwers Hall of Fame, and for many years conducted knife-and-tomahawk-throwing demonstrations at the BLADE Show. John makes knives and sheaths and has conducted seminars on how to make sheaths at both the BLADE Show and BLADE University.
New York-born, Dan was always a Westerner at heart, John pointed out, known as “Tex” in the Navy and wearing cowboy boots and a hat most of his adult life. He also loved and revered the history of the Alamo, finding it as sacred a location as native Texans.
“Having one of his knives on display [there] was one of his most cherished accomplishments,” John said.
Fowler had a lasting impact on handmade knives and knife writing.
The cutlery world recently lost one of its most steadfast creators and philosophers. Ed Fowler, a man who epitomized the spirit of the custom knife movement, passed away on January 17.
Ed’s journey in the industry began in 1962. Over the following six decades, he became a driving force in the evolution of functional cutlery. While he didn’t invent the use of 52100 ball-bearing steel, he was arguably its greatest champion, popularizing the material alongside his then-controversial methods of multiple quenching during heat treatment. For Ed, a knife wasn’t just a tool; it was an ongoing experiment in maximum performance.
To the readers of BLADE Magazine, Ed was a household name. For over a quarter century, he penned his monthly “Knife Talk” column, which consistently ranked at the top of reader surveys alongside BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall of Fame® member Wayne Goddard. His writings were eventually compiled into two essential volumes: Knife Talk I: The Art & Science of Knife Making and Knife Talk II: The High Performance Blade. Whether he was conducting demos at BLADE Show or teaching at BLADE University, Ed was always eager to share his findings with anyone who sought a deeper understanding of the craft.
A former ABS master smith, Ed eventually founded the High Endurance Performance Knife Association. This organization was a reflection of his own soul—dedicated to understanding the limits of steel and ensuring every knife reached its absolute potential.
Ed’s voice was unmistakable. In his writing, a knife was never an “it”—always a “she” or “her.” He spent his life in a relentless search for what he called “Excalibur,” his version of the perfect knife. He drew deep inspiration from the legends of the past, including Hall of Famers Bill Moran, William Scagel, Rudy Ruana, and the 19th-century bowies of Henry Huber.
He was perhaps most famous for his insistence on testing. Ed had no patience for makers or companies that didn’t put their blades to the trial, and he was never shy about saying so. This commitment to truth in steel earned him a fiercely loyal following. Many of his readers didn’t just follow his column; they traveled across the country to visit him at his Willow Bow Ranch in Riverton, Wyoming, to spend time in the shop with the man who helped define the modern high-performance blade.
Remembering Others The Knife Industry Has Lost:
Betty Dowell, Driving Force Behind Knifemaker Ted Dowell, Passes
B. R. Hughes, Pioneering Writer And Bladesmithing Teacher, Passes Away
Truly an American design, the bowie continues to inspire today’s makers.
While its roots may be from across the sea, ties to the makers of old Sheffield and elsewhere, the bowie is today distinctly American. And it has been for more than two centuries.
Made famous by BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Jim Bowie and the fabled Sandbar Fight, no doubt present at the Alamo where Americans fought and died for freedom, and seen in countless photos of soldiers going to war—posing with the burly bowie in a proud moment—the iconic knife was also immortalized on the silver screen with the classic The Iron Mistress and other films. There is no other style of knife that more clearly defines the American spirit.
“Bowies are the quintessential American knife, deeply steeped in the mythos of our collective history,” observed ABS journeyman smith Matt Parkinson of Dragon’s Breath Forge. Shawn Shropshire of SDS Knifeworks agrees. “The bowie is the most iconic or at least the most recognized of American knife designs,” he said. “At the time of the Sandbar Fight, there was no single pattern that was called a ‘bowie knife.’ It varied in size, blade shape and even materials. Cinema later created what most people now recognize as the bowie knife, something with a large blade, clip point usually, with a double guard.”
ABS master smith Lin Rhea commented, “I do indeed believe the bowie knife is America’s knife design. It was created to fill a need. The country was expanding and was very wild and without law and order. The average traveler in the lawless wilderness needed a reliable defense weapon that could be carried on their person, that never misfired and was less conspicuous than a sword. The fact that a large knife was used in self-defense by Jim Bowie in the infamous Sandbar Fight just boosted the design into the realm of legend.”
Wrapped up in fact, fiction, myth, legend and lore, the bowie is a constant in the theme of adventure and survival. Although it does exhibit common attributes—among them impressive size—across the design, there are variations on the theme. To this day, the bowie remains a favorite form of expression for custom knifemakers who tip their creative cap to the history of the design and imprint their own skill, expertise and perspective on this truly American blade.
Barbary Coast Bowie
Matt Parkinson’s California-style bowie is deadly dapper. He describes it as “graceful and sleek,” featuring his own wootz steel and sterling silver bolster, pommel and guard. (SharpByCoop image)
Parkinson chose the San Francisco theme to highlight his take on the classic bowie. Representative of the days of the Barbary Coast and the rough-and-ready youth of a nation stretching from sea to shining sea, the idea captivated him.
“I have long been intrigued with the California- or San Francisco-style bowie,” he remarked. “They are graceful and sleek in a way that many bowies are not. In designing this particular piece, I looked at as many examples of this style as I could, both originals and contemporary. I didn’t copy anything but tried to match the design cues I saw in the originals that made them so iconic.”
Matt’s San Francisco Bowie features a 6.25-inch blade, an overall length of 11.75 inches, a bone handle and generous applications of stylized silver in shell and pin. “The blade is forged from my own wootz steel,” he noted, “and the bolster in front of the guard was cast, as was the shell pommel, and the guard and frame are all fabricated from sterling silver.
“One of the things I most admire about the California style bowies is the uniquely American lineage. Much of the bowie styles we think of are influenced by the Sheffield and London makers …This isn’t the case with the California makers. The knife they made for the 49ers used local materials and was a show of wealth, as much jewelry as a weapon. I kept these ideas in mind in making this one. The cow bone was a logical choice and a nod to local materials, as was the choice of sterling silver over nickel.”
Antiques Actualized
Aiming for historical accuracy circa-1830 style, father-daughter makers Josh and Karis Fisher pull off this dynamic duo. Josh’s bowie (left) was inspired by an original Schively-Perkins piece, while Karis (right) crafted a rendition of the Daniel Searles bowie. (SharpByCoop image)
The father-daughter ABS master smith duo of Josh and Karis Fisher share their own interpretations of the bowie with a pair of stunning knives touching the past. Each took inspiration from circa 1830 bowie designs: Josh the Schively-Perkins and Karis a Daniel Searles.
“I kept my reproduction similar to the original and as close in size as I could, so it would look and feel like the real knife,” Karis said. “I was mostly working from photographs, which made studying overall design really important. I also made a few changes to incorporate my own style. I left off the original silver pins and did hand checkering instead. I also changed the ferrule and butt cap. I didn’t use silver wraps. Instead, I used a combination of liners and spacers to match the original while adding my own style.”
“A few techniques that I used on my bowie were hand-checkered African blackwood on the handle and the silver ferrule and butt cap that I had to silver solder together, which was a challenge. It’s definitely a functional knife,” Josh reported. “While it’s on the larger side, it’s very well balanced due to the silver wraps on the ferrule and pommel.”
Capturing the notion of the bowie’s place in Americana, Josh related that his work in 80CrV2 carbon steel and sterling silver is true to such spirit. “It is a reproduction of an actual antique bowie knife,” he stated. “In my opinion, a bowie is a large fixed-blade knife, at least 10 inches in blade length, that is on the thicker side. I think typically they should have a clip point, but there are some exceptions as you can see in mine and Karis’s bowies.”
Small & Spruce
James Fleming’s gentleman’s bowie is diminutive in comparison to others but no less representative of the style. The damascus blade is complemented by an ancient walrus ivory handle with a nickel silver spacer and Parkerized steel bolster. Overall length: 11.5 inches. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Working at Wasteland Forge, ABS journeyman smith James Fleming has produced a gentleman’s bowie, diminutive in comparison to others but no less representative of the style. The 6.5-inch damascus blade is complemented by an ancient walrus ivory handle with a nickel silver spacer and Parkerized steel bolster for an overall length of 11.5 inches.
“I wanted to make a knife that capitalized on the mosaic damascus pattern,” James explained. “I think the gentleman’s vest bowie complements the pattern. The knife is pretty recognizable as a bowie. It’s not as large as a regular bowie but has the same look and purpose. It fits the term ‘vest bowie’ perfectly. It is small enough to be concealed but large enough for defense in any western saloon. This is the kind of knife you’d see stabbed into a poker table after accusing someone of cheating at cards!”
The damascus pattern came from Fleming’s experimentation with Mareko Maumasi’s pattern-making process. He named it “Nazar,” which translates from the original Turkish as “evil eye.” He added, “I was also inspired by Lin Rhea in the way he makes his fittings. The nickel spacer is domed around the guard and bottom spacer, and it’s hammer textured to give it a nice look and feel in the hand.”
Mammoth Achievement
Attracted to larger bowie designs, Gene Kimmi pulls it off with a giant gem. Featuring ladder-pattern damascus—fashioned from dies he made himself—the 15.25-inch behemoth is further bespoke with a crosscut mammoth tusk handle. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Gene Kimmi was intentional with his contribution to the bowie’s visual discourse. “I have always had a liking for the larger bowie knives,” he remarked. “When I made some laddering dies for my press, I knew one of the first knives I would make out of ladder-pattern damascus would be a large bowie. This one has some clam-shell type filing on the guard that I haven’t done before. The handle is heirloom/museum fit to the guard also.”
Gene’s bowie features the ladder damascus in a 9 7/8-inch blade and crosscut mammoth tusk handle with G-10 black pinning for an overall length of 15.25 inches. “The design is easily recognizable,” he asserted. “Anyone who sees it instantly thinks bowie. The lightness and the fit to the hand are attributes that everyone who handles it comments on. The uniqueness of the mammoth tusk handle adds to the beauty of the damascus. When I think of a bowie knife, I see a straight-backed blade of at least 6 inches. Limits can be pushed on the style and attributes of a bowie, maybe because of the mystery of the bowie knife’s beginning.”
User-Friendly Fighter
Shawn Shropshire wanted a bowie that not only looked sharp but also worked with the user. What he cooked up was this stag-handled beauty. With a 7.5-inch blade of 1084 carbon steel and a user-friendly bronze guard, the knife is easy to carry and manipulate. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
The famed Randall Model 1 provided some context for Shropshire to fashion his bowie of a 7.5-inch, 1084 carbon steel blade and stag handle with bronze bolster and an overall length of 12 inches. The proprietor of SDS Knifeworks blended the pattern with a desired functionality.
“I love making the larger versions of the bowie knife that many people think of, but as much as I enjoy them, they just aren’t very practical,” he reasoned. “This size and style is much more useful and easier to carry. It’s still a classic-looking pattern and functional without being so large that it is cumbersome and difficult to carry. I love the classic-looking lines paired with the look and feel of natural stag.”
After perusing photos of historical blades and the work of other makers, along with hours using a sketch pad, Shawn was pleased with the result. “In my opinion, this particular blade would have been right at home during the mid-to-late 1800s and at any time considered a bowie knife,” he advised. “I think most people today might refer to it more as a fighter because our notions of what a bowie knife is have been heavily influenced by cinema. The movies usually represent bowie knives as larger than life. Some were but many were not. I do think this blade hints at the history of what an American bowie is with the overall shape and the stag grip without instantly screaming ‘bowie knife.’”
Throughout the creation of his bowie, Shropshire kept user friendliness front and center. Aside from visual appeal, he designed it for easy carry with shorter “legs” on the guard and a coined spacer to help break up the smooth lines it exhibited.
The Legend Continues
The bowie theme lives—in thought, folklore and tangible craftsmanship. Staying true to its American heritage, the style has gained lasting fame and a following the world over.
Wire wrapping the handle of a dagger is the finishing touch to the process, but requires a fine touch and patience.
Once the wire grooves and flutes are complete, the entire handle finished to its final state and the tang slot broached, insert the wires and lock them in tightly. As mentioned, 24-gauge wire looks good. If you want to use silver, Argentium or fine silver are both better choices than sterling, which tarnishes more quickly. Twenty-four-karat gold is terribly expensive but is the ultimate in luxury.
If you have Rolls-Royce taste but a Toyota budget, consider gold-filled wire as an alternative to pure gold. It’s brass at the core but at least 20 percent gold by thickness, and consequently much more durable than simple gold electroplate. It usually comes in 14k only. As a reference point, not long ago 12 feet of 24-gauge pure silver wire could be had for a little under $9. The same length of 24k gold in the same size was $1,050. The same length of gold fill was about $20. Save the 24k gold for times when you want to make a statement or your customer pays for the gold in advance.
With a hook chucked in a hand drill, hook the resulting large loop, pull it tight and turn on the drill. Keep the tension constant—as you twist the wire it will pull you toward the vise.
Buy your wire dead-soft from your favorite supplier. You need about 20 percent more wire than twice the combined length of your wire grooves.
To twist the wire evenly, you must twist all of it at the same time. Clamp the two ends together tightly in a vise. With a hook chucked in a hand drill, hook the resulting large loop, pull it tight and turn on your drill. Keep the tension constant—as you twist it the wire will pull you toward the vise. If it breaks off at the vise, just re-clamp it and continue twisting. There’s no rule about how tightly the wire should be twisted, but tighter twists look better. If you aren’t sure it’s tight enough, twist it some more.
Annealing The Wire
Drill diagonal holes inside your groove, starting halfway between the broached hole and the edge.
The next step isn’t required but will make things easier. Most metals, including gold and silver, work harden. After all of that twisting your wire will be hard and springy, and it’s much easier to install your wires if they’re dead soft.
To soften the wire back to its original state, you must anneal it. To do this, coil it tightly around a 2-inch piece of pipe or something similar, and tie up the coil. Using a propane torch, heat the coil evenly until it glows slightly. One trick to make sure you don’t melt it is to color your wire thoroughly with a Sharpie® marker. When the ink burns off, it’s time to stop.
Don’t forget your essential tools—including your Bob Ross Happy Little Tree Mints.
Pick up the coil and drop it in water to cool it rapidly. It’s now dead-soft again but is likely discolored from oxidation. To remove the discoloration, let the coil sit in warm pickle solution that is available from any jewelry supply vendor. If you don’t want to go to the trouble of pickling, you’re better off dealing with the trouble of work-hardened wire.
Wire Installation
To install the wires, a little bit more work on the handle is necessary. Starting from the end points of your wire grooves, cut new grooves into both ends of your handle for at least half the distance between the outside of the handle and the tang slot. A Dremel or Foredom tool is best for this, but you can use a file also. If you use a file, go ahead and groove all the way to the tang slot—it’ll be easier that way and invisible on the assembled knife. These grooves need to be equal in depth to the diameter of the wire so that the handle will fit tight against the guard or pommel when the wire is installed and the knife is fully assembled. Cutting the line at an angle rather than perpendicular to the circumference will help when you pull things tight later.
Drill diagonal holes inside your groove, starting halfway between the broached hole and the edge. Drill at an angle toward the center so that the hole for the wire exits into the tang slot about a quarter inch from the top and bottom of the handle, in line with the end of your groove. Make the holes slightly larger than your wire diameter.
After the handle is fully assembled and the glue is set up, perform a final finish check. The wires should be tight and fully seated in the grooves.
You’re almost to the fun part. Cut your wires at least an inch longer than the length of the groove to give yourself some extra to work with. To install the wire, thread one end through the hole you just drilled into the tang slot, grab the end with some small pliers, and bend the end back up toward the handle end, locking it in. Though not strictly necessary, you can pin the wire with a toothpick in the hole and a drop of CA Glue or 5-minute epoxy for extra security. This can be cut off and sanded flush later. Pull the wire tight, seating it in your groove, and repeat the process to lock in the other end. This method guarantees that your wires are as tight as they can possibly be. The wires and glue and toothpicks should lay flush with or below the surface of the ends of the handle. Cut off the excess wire inside the tang slot to ensure the wire doesn’t interfere with the final fit-up of your knife.
Finish Check
After the handle is fully assembled and the glue is set up, perform a final finish check. The wires should be tight and fully seated in the grooves. You can lightly buff the wires for extra shine but use a light touch to avoid unintended polishing of the handle. Tarnished wires can easily be brightened up with a Sunshine® Polishing Cloth. Don’t forget to give yourself a pat on the back.
That’s A Wrap
Silver wire wraps the rosewood grip of Duane Bomar’s dagger. The 10-inch blade is a damascus of 1084 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. Overall length: 15 inches. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Precision flutes and carefully inlaid twisted wires transform a utilitarian grip into a truly exemplary expression of craftsmanship. By selecting materials that balance luxury and performance, you anchor your design in both history and function. By following the instructions in this series, you’ll be able to master this exemplary style, and use the experience as foundation for future creativity.
Robin Askew moves on, but her father remains there for her.
The constant, the heart and soul of BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Bob Loveless, was wrapped up in custom knives. There was little time for anything else and there were only rare occasions that he travelled. Bob and his wife, Yoshi, made a few trips to Japan or to Hawaii, on a rare occasion to Europe, but most often with some business purpose involved as well.
And over time, Robin Askew came to appreciate and understand the singular purpose, laser-like focus and personal intensity that drove her father. He was capable of kindness but often brutally frank. He was willing to entertain young knifemakers, share information and then criticize or dismiss flaws with stark, unvarnished perspective. With patience that was sometimes fleeting, he did not suffer fools gladly.
But then, his personality was a tapestry, like all of us, an amalgam of inherited traits and life experience. His mother and father had sent him to live on a farm with grandparents at a young age. According to Robin, he lived and worked with the hired hands, not as a grandchild. At just 15 years old, he joined the Merchant Marine when his mother told the white lie that he was of age.
In addition to the knife her dad made for her, Robin’s other favorite keepsake is a photo of him, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. “It’s a beautiful picture,” Robin stated, “and I look at it every day.”
It wasn’t easy for Bob Loveless, right from the start. But he made something of his opportunities and his native talents, shared them in the way he knew how, paying the price along the way and leaving a body of work of insight into what is beauty and flow in a handmade knife, like no one else has. For the record, he never billed himself as the world’s best knifemaker. He wasn’t, and he freely acknowledged that others were much more deserving of applause for their skills. It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that thoroughly set him apart.
Four Careers
When Robin grew up, moved out and moved on, she carried the best and the most worrisome of life experiences with her. She made her own way and has come to understand and appreciate the journey.
“I’ve really had four careers,” she reflected. “I worked 11 years in the banking industry and 20 years as a correctional peace officer at Pelican Bay State Prison in Crescent City, California, with 12 years as a peace officer. Put that together with the work in Dad’s office and then when my husband, Jimmie Askew, and I had a restaurant in Crescent City, California.” When she worked in banking, Robin went to Crescent City on business for her employer. While there she met the most eligible bachelor in town. “It was a 400-mile, eight-hour drive to Crescent City, and I was supposed to be there for a month,” she said. “It became one of those wonderful love stories. Jimmie and I were meant to be together.”
Bob Loveless photographed Robin’s son Nico during a regular visit while they were “out and about.” Nico was 9. The resemblance to his grandfather is striking. (Bob Loveless image)
Jimmie was an award-winning chef, and with Robin’s business background the couple put together a fine restaurant that served a variety of entrees.
“I met Jimmie in 1984,” she recalled wistfully. “We got married the next year, and he passed away 12 years later. He made prime rib, barbecue pork spareribs and fresh seafood. He would go out in the morning on his boat and catch 300 to 400 pounds of rock cod. He would clean the fish and then serve it that night. It was the best seafood in all of Crescent City—wonderful. We also had meat from our mesquite grill, chicken parmesan, grilled Italian sausage, vegetarian dishes and the deep-fried seafood platter.”
Nico
The couple had one son, Nico, who is now 36. When Robin speaks of those days, a tinge of heartache touches her words. But also during that time, she rediscovered the love and care that her father had always had for the family.
Nico and Robin
“Dad came up from Riverside to visit us a month before Jimmie died,” Robin recalled. He had been in touch by telephone continually and made himself the father figure that a 7-year-old boy needed during a tragic time.
“After Jimmie died, Dad would come up regularly,” Robin related. “He took Nico fishing four or five times a year. Grandpa was there for Nico. He taught him how to shoot a gun and would charter a boat on the Chetco River in Oregon and they would fish together. He came up to see Nico play soccer, baseball and football, and he stepped in to take care of my son.”
When Bob wasn’t physically present, he was always in touch with Robin and Nico. He worried that Robin worked in the toughest place at Pelican Bay State Prison. It was called the “shoe,” and he once told Robin how he worried for her safety. Her response was from deep inside, a manifestation of something she learned when her father made the introduction to that Japanese gentleman years earlier: “I told my dad, ‘I show them [the inmates] respect, and they show me respect. It’s really the safest place in the prison to work.’ I told him there were two officers for every inmate and that I really had no qualms about it.”
Bob took this picture when he visited Robin and Nico not long after Jimmie Askew passed away. Nico was 10.
That soft spot in Bob’s heart came through time and again as he cared for his daughter and grandson. “He would call us and say, ‘What’s Nico doing?’ He wrote a check to pay for Nico’s braces. He was there for both of us. Being a widow raising a young boy, I could call him anytime and we would talk. I also started to do that with my mother because I wanted to reach out and make sure that my contact with my family was really strong. Dad was so far away, but I talked to him at least once a week. He became the type of dad that my son needed.”
Traits & Quirks
All the while, the legend of Bob Loveless continued to grow. Tales were told. Knives were made and sold. Stories were swapped, and the maker slowly but surely grasped his own impact on the world of knives. At the same time, his various interests, personality traits and, yes, his quirks made him more than just a knifemaking phenomenon. They made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.
Bob always carried a gun. “Even when I was a little girl,” Robin laughed, “I remember that he would hang his gun on the towel rack in the bathroom.” For some time, he enjoyed rabbit hunting in the desert with friends. But then another fork in the road pointed a different direction when it came to outdoor activities.
It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that set Bob Loveless apart. Few if any of his knives capture these traits better than his Big Bear fighter in sheep horn and gold engraving by Dan Wilkerson. (from the John Denton collection; Eric Eggly/PointSeven image)
Robin commented, “They took a lot of hunting trips, and one day Dad decided to stop shooting animals with a gun. He started shooting pictures with a camera. He loved photography, and I have no idea how all that started—but, gosh, I remember when I was a young kid he would take me and Allison on the weekends to camera stores. He would go in and talk for a couple of hours, and we were bored out of our minds. He would take pictures like you wouldn’t believe.”
Adding to Bob’s repertoire of activities, he was also an accomplished gunsmith. If these endeavors sound like a lot to pack into a lifetime, then there is no hesitation in labeling Loveless a true “Renaissance Man.”
Nonetheless, he had pursued his passions, probably without seeking the fame that came along with them. “I do know he never liked living in fancy houses,” Robin remarked. “But he had sports cars, and his favorite car depended on his age bracket. He would drive the back roads to the Chinese restaurant in Riverside and hit 100 miles per hour. At one time, he had three cars and two airplanes. He was a pilot with a lot of camera equipment. He probably got his pilot’s license before he moved to Riverside. I forget what year he got rid of his planes. He had crashed and it was no fault of his own. It happened when a bigger plane was landing and he got banged up. He had a limp after that.”
Keepsakes
Writes Robin: “My handsome son Nico as he is today, shaggy beard and all. As a mother, I think his eyes and smile show what a kind and good man he is. I know his grandpa would agree with me and like this picture very much.”
Today, Robin’s heart is warmed by her memories, her strong Christian faith, and the knowledge that her dad truly became a father. His life was a mosaic of love and loss, turmoil and moments of calm, fiery and icy emotion, but always with a heart for the good and for his family. She clings to at least a couple of special items that symbolize the tie that binds.
He made a banana skinner for her when she graduated from high school. “It has a stag handle with intricate engraving that he had done by a silversmith,” Robin said, “and I think the handle is at least 6 inches long with the blade about 7 inches. It is absolutely beautiful.”
A few years ago, Steve Johnson cleaned the knife up and put an edge on it. Dave Ellis took photographs of the one-of-a-kind piece, and John Denton, likely the foremost authority on Loveless knives in the world today, offered powerful words and urged her to treasure it always.
His various interests, personality traits and quirks made Bob Loveless more than just a knifemaking phenomenon—they made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.
The other keepsake is a photo of Bob, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. It captures a sliver of his enjoyment of life, a glimpse into the heart and soul of just who he was. He was the gruff guy that gave generously to the local animal shelter, the edgy and matter-of-fact curmudgeon who handed substantial financial support to the UPS driver who had served faithfully in the area for years when Bob found out the guy had fallen on hard times. He was simply their quiet benefactor.
“It’s a beautiful picture and I look at it every day,” Robin offered. She ponders exactly where his genius came from and concludes that he inherited it from his mother. She admits that the spark of “genius” has not emerged from any other family member and concludes, “It was meant to be. That kind of genius is created before birth. My father was extremely gifted, and I always knew that.”
True enough, he was gifted, and in some ways that only a relative few others were even aware of.
Growing up Loveless and living within the sphere of influence her famous father created has been an adventure for Robin Askew, a thrill ride that began so many years ago, one that continues well after her dad’s departure from this Earth.
Read More On Bob Loveless:
Bob Loveless: The Icon’s Indelible Mark On The Knife Industry
Remembering Mike “Whiskers” Allen, known for his innovative hidden bolster automatics and collaborations with Pro-Tech Knives.
Mike “Whiskers” Allen, affable award-winning custom knifemaker and knife designer, passed away on November 8 after a short illness.
Nicknamed for his full bushy beard, the Malakoff, Texas, cutler started making knives in 1984. He made folders mostly, specializing in automatics. He suffered a stroke in 2015 that affected his right side and eyesight, so he had to retire from knifemaking. He designed a full line of autos for Pro-Tech Knives, including the BR1.7 LTD “Whiskers” Design, which opens via a nifty hidden bolster release and debuted at BLADE Show 2025.
Whiskers also made miniatures as well as swords. He was known all over the country for his reasonably priced, one-of-a-kind knives. He was a member of The Knifemakers’ Guild and the Professional Knifemakers Association (PKA) and carried Knifemaker’s Emeritus status in the Guild. He also served as PKA president during his last few years of making knives. He won at least one custom knife judging award at the BLADE Show, which he and his wife Denise attended on a regular basis.
Remembering Others The Knife Industry Has Lost:
Betty Dowell, Driving Force Behind Knifemaker Ted Dowell, Passes
B. R. Hughes, Pioneering Writer And Bladesmithing Teacher, Passes Away
