I’ve long been enamored with the pocket knife. As a young boy, my father would occasionally take me fishing at a neighbor’s pond after school. I don’t specifically recall catching a the bluefin or smallmouth bass stocked there. The single, strongest memory that I have of those fishing trips more than 20 years ago is hanging my lure on some underwater obstacle and dad pulling from his pocket a two-blade Case knife with which he would cut the line. It was small—probably no more than 4” long—and appeared almost delicate with its deer-antler handle and 2” blades. It seemed designed specifically for cutting monofilament. There were few things I enjoyed more than seeing that Case come out of dad’s pant pocket. Craighill’s Rook Knife shares little with that old Case in terms of size, weight, material, or feel. It’s a bit larger and heavier, and it’s blade is larger and sturdier. Like dad’s Case, though, the Rook Knife is fascinating. It’s a delight to handle, its action is sublime, and it is without a doubt of high quality. It disappears in the pocket without being forgotten. The Rook Knife is a simple tool designed specifically to be used as such and nothing more. Carrying a pocket knife is not only useful; it connects us to simpler, more utilitarian times. It’s difficult to open a pocket knife without being struck by its simplicity and by memories of past encounters: grandfathers whittling on the porch or kids exploring each component of a new Swiss Army knife. Or dad’s old two…