When we visited my sister a couple of weeks ago, we went to a farmers market. A knife grinder was set up in a corner of the building and charged by the inch to sharpen knives.

Like Frisco, I grew up in St. Louis but in the ‘60s. My mom had her knives and scissors sharpened by Tony. If there was an issue he couldn’t take care of right then, he would bring it home and have it back the next week all ready to go. Be it a stripped screw or bent blade, Tony could fix it.

His cart had a bell that rang when a certain spoke of one of the big wheels would hit it. Ding ding ding bong. Could hear him blocks away so by the time he got to our neighborhood, the women would have their stuff ready.

I was relaying this story to my partner at Ranken years ago. He said that Tony was his uncle and he was the black sheep of the family.

https://showmemo.org/collection/griner-cart-of-anthony-gagliarducci/

Is this self-powered? The large, spoked wheel doesn't seem to be a flywheel so no momentum there. The machine looks heavy, there's no wheels on it. How is it portable? I thought maybe some small wheels in front and a place at the rear to lift and move it about like a wheelbarrow. The location doesn't look like a permanent place of business.

[It has a one-footpower motor. -Dave]

Growing up in a St. Louis suburb in the 1940s-'50s, there was a man with a portable cart who worked our street about once a month. Also a "Strawberry Man" when in season. Street sweeper made the rounds. Paper boy with the weekend paper.

The knife man did an excellent job. What a different and more colorful world it was.

Today we have an ice cream truck every day playing a Scott Joplin tune over and over and creating an earworm.

This cutler has quite a setup. The only thing missing is a means to easily transport it to the next location. It doesn't look light.

I remember when every kitchen had a knife sharpener in the form of a long, round, metal rod with a rough surface. Then came grinding stones rotating on the backs of electric can openers.

The juxtaposition and contrast of stationary and in-motion spoked wheels is hypnotic. In the words of Elmer Fudd, I wheely wike this picture.

I'll get right to the point (cut to the chase, if you prefer): I ran across the modern-day successor to this fellow just the other day. Now in a van, and probably doing everything but the sharpening electronically, the craft lives on.