My First Multi-Tool by: John E. Bowling My first multi-tool, my mother and father gave me for Christmas. I can't say there was anything special about the tool; it just worked. It had a knife, pliers, cutter, file, can opener, saw, and screwdriver, as I remember. Actually, I had two alike, one I bought for myself just before Christmas, and the one they gave me a few months later. We thought alike, my parents, and me. I used it a lot, then, always keeping one in the glove compartment, one in my go-bag. You know, "that thing" you can't live without, that was my multi-tool. The years past, I found myself going over a mountain pass above 12,000 feet. In front of me, as I neared the top, a car stranded on the side of the road. It was a young couple with a small child and a busted radiator hose. The hose cut, the clamp lose. Another car was full of people standing helpless, no tools or ideas on how to fix it. I laughed to myself. All these people, their faces set in bewilderment as they looked under the hood. I had seen enough. I said, "Hello, I can help?" I went back to my car and pulled out of my bag, my multi-tool. The wife said as I came back, "Half a dozen people stopped, but no one had any tools to fix it." I raised my hand with my tool. Like a badge, I signified my authority and ability to remedy their situation. As everyone watched, I unfolded my multi-tool. It took me a few minutes to cut the hose, then move the clamp and tighten it down again. I used the saw to cut off the offending branch through that was affixed to the front grill. An off-the-road exit had helped to cause the whole thing. I still remember their faces as they watched. Their daughter, about six or seven, was sitting in the back seat now clearly excited when her mother said, "He fixed it"! The young girl smiled, held up her toy, fixed a glare at me, and demanded, "Fix this, fix this, please." I was glad to help. It took a few minutes to tighten several screws with my multi-tool. I went back to my car to retrieve a battery for her toy and put it all back in working order. The little girl Kate sat there transfixed, watching me work with my tool. Smiling, she held up another toy for me to address my tool's attention, explaining she knew I could fix it also. Her mother protested, but her little smile was just too much to resist. After that, I repaired her seat, cut off some offending threads from her coat she showed me must go. We were all good. I was sitting in the back seat now as little Kate said, "Thanks, mister, I wished I had one of those," as she reached for my tool. I didn't hesitate; it was her eyes. I couldn't say no. I had two for a reason, I thought to myself, so I handed it over as she grabbed it right up. Both her mother and father protested and said, "NO," but I explained I had two, and I knew she needed one, so she could help them when I wasn't around. We all laughed. Finally, we waved goodbye, and I promised to follow them down the mountain to make sure the repair would hold. The last time I saw the little girl, she waved with her new multi-tool in her tiny hand. I remember thinking, "I wonder how she will grow up, will she lose the tool," I would never know, I thought to myself. Time seems to fly. I was waiting to board a plane some twenty years later when a loose bar on a wheelchair needed fixing. I was on one knee next to the chair, looking for my old multi-tool in my bag. As I searched, a young ladies' hand reached out near my face with the same tool as mine. She spoke three words, "Use mine, mister." I turned, it was the same smile, it was Kate. She said, "Fix it, fix it please" and pointed at the chair. I wanted to cry; we both laughed. With a few quick turns, the chair fixed, I rose. As I collapsed the tool, she hugged me. Kate said, "I bet you didn't think I would still have my tool, did you"? We had time for coffee and catching up. It was as if moments had just passed as Kate explained how she slept with the tool under her pillow all summer. Kate explained how she fixed things that had not broken, but she was sure needed her multi-tool. Later she told me she always bought a purse it would fit in. She told me how she became an engineer, probably because of that tool I gave her. I think at that moment; my smile was bigger than hers. As Kate boarded her plane, I waved goodbye. I thought to myself how the simple things in life are really the best. It was not too long after that; I "donated mine to a soldier in need." I have had many since that day, none as good; they all missed something, but I could not tell what. And then I found one, better than any. I own two today. Made in America, stamped write on the steel by my heroes at Gerber . What my old tool lacked, this one has. When you hold the Center Drive to use the plyers, knife, or screwdriver, it's better than the real thing. I bought more bits so I can take apart anything and keep it wherever I go. You know the rest, I bought two for myself and one for each of my sons. Well, one for Kate, you know. My suggestion how to use this magical tool, first buy two, just in case. You never know when someone like Kate comes your way.