My Inspiration

My name is James B. Covert (art name Thunder). My father called my brother and I “Boanerges” (from the bible, the sons of Thunder). There are some things in life that consume a man, like a fire. Knives and swords are my obsession. I can not remember a time that I was not mesmerized by a sharp blade.

At the age of fifteen, I asked my father to buy a bowie knife that had snared my heart. He thought about it for a moment and then said no. Looking me in the eye, he said I will show you how to make one. Thinking back on that first knife reminds me of an old saying, “If you only feed a man he will again grow hungry, but if you also teach him to plant he can teach others and never hunger again.” My father fed me and taught me how to plant.

Knife making has been apart of me for thirty years and I enjoy teaching others. During the 70’s there were not a lot of people making knives. Skill was learned through trial and error and a lot of reading. I did work with Blacksmiths, but knife making is a specialized field of Blacksmithing, most of the Smiths did not understand much about the character of high carbon steels. It would be an untrue statement to say I learned nothing from the Farriers (working with horse shoes) and general Blacksmiths. The knowledge and skill they imparted was incomplete for knife making.

It still amazes me when I look at other knife maker’s work and techniques because I taught myself the things they are doing. Knife making is a hands on type of skill, not one you can readily learn through a book. I have always had a strong desire to succeed at making knives and that is the key ingredient. If you can not make a good knife from simple tools, you probably will not be able to with expensive ones either.

My thought about the process of knife making has evolved and come full circle for me. When I first started making knives I used simple tools because that is all I had. As the years passed, the tools increased and became more specialized. Thirty years later I find myself refusing to use anything but simple tools, by choice. The reason for this return to the beginning is my search for authentic techniques. I find myself working out in the woods away from electricity and power tools. The question that fills my head is, “How did my ancestors make knives?”

You might be asking yourself why someone would not want to use power tools etc. if they make a job easier. There are a few reasons for not using modern equipment.

· Easier is not always better.

· Almost everyone uses power tools and I like to be different.

· I am interested in quality not quantity.

· I enjoy working in the woods while camping.

· Steel is not shaped by power tools, but by the force of the soul.

· One of the most important reasons is, because I can.

The way I make knives is called Tribal knife making, which is just another way of saying the old way. How do I make a knife or sword? I heat up a piece of metal in a forge to its critical temperature. Then I hammer it to shape on an anvil. It takes many heats to get the final shape. The closer I get to the final shape by forging means less work with file and sandpaper. I then heat the blade to its critical temperature again and dip it in water or oil to quench it, hardening the blade. I must then temper the blade by drawing out a bit of the hardness, so it will not break from being too brittle. I clean up the blade with sandpaper. The next process is to make a handle and a sheath.

This is the Four Hundredth Year Anniversary of the founding of Jamestown. I have always loved American history. The whole community revolved around the Blacksmith because he made all the tools for farming, repaired broken tools, made wagon wheels etc. He was the predecessor of the industrial revolution. The primitive way I make weapons makes me feel connected to my past. The American pioneer had this self sufficient way of thinking and living. It is easy to loose the connection to our past in this modern world. Where I came from and who I am, is part of my destiny. The answers to my future are in the past.