 Steve Johnson was destined to be a knife-maker. He was introduced to the trade that was to be Ills life's profession as a teenager on a Boy Scout outing. His scouting advisor, Gil Hibben, was a knife-maker and he took Johnson and a group of other scouts to Ills shop In Manti At the time Hibben was selling some knives for about $ 35 a price Johnson considered astronomical. "I thought people must be crazy to pay that for a knife.' Then I saw them and I spent the entire next day figuring out how I would get $35 because I just had to have one of those knives." Now, 33 years later, Johnson is making and selling, knives in his native Manti for prices far above what his mentor was asking back In the mid-1960s. Johnson's work is in such demand worldwide that there is a four-year backlog of orders. "I don't even promise delivery for about five years," he says with a laugh. There was a time when Johnson considered doing something else with his life. He thought of being a teacher, earning a bachelor's of science degree from Brigham Young University in elementary education and even marrying a teacher.  But he never taught school on a full-time basis. By the time he graduated, there was a long list of people waiting for his custom, handmade knives. "While I was in school, I kept getting letters from collectors saying if I ever made knives again, would I make them one. By the time I finished school, I had enough letters for at least a year's work, so I thought I would try it for a year."
That year turned into decades. Johnson returned to his childhood home, opened a knife-making shop, and went to work. From that point on, he has been too busy to enter a classroom (save for a few stints as a substitute teacher). In fact, his wife Dorothy, a former teacher, never went back to the classroom either, staying home to raise their seven children and help him run his business. Johnson's knife-making business is truly a family affair. Dorothy does the accounting and bookkeeping, and two eldest sons Rob and Nate helped out, sawing blades and doing some rough grinding, before going on LDS missions. His two younger sons, Mark and Mike and daughters Christine, Karen and Jennifer help out doing small, odd jobs around the shop.  Johnson's makes about 85 to 90 knives a year and is known in the knife-making industry for fit, finish, polish and detail. His knives -- usually full tang hunters, boot and fighting knives -- range in price from about $450 to $5,000, depending on the style, make and type of handle.
Each knife is custom-made of special steel from Japan, and can take hours or weeks to create. Handles are made from Micarta (a type of plastic), exotic woods from South America, Africa and Mexico, pearl, stag horn imported from India and even animals tusks. "I've used mammoth ivory from prehistoric tusks found in Alaska and Siberia that have been preserved for who knows how many years," Johnson says. Johnson's customers come from all over the world. He has made knives for customers in Italy, Japan, France, Germany, Switzerland, England and even Tel Aviv. "I remember getting a call from the guy in the special forces of the Army in Tel Aviv, saying he needed a knife -- fast. I made it and sent it off. I don't know what ever became of it," he says. "Ninety-five percent of the knives I make go into collections or are resold for collections."  Johnson learned the knife-making trade while in high school. After visiting Hibben's shop, he was invited to make a knife as a Boy Scout project Hibben recognized his potential and hired him part time. Johnson continued working for Hibben and fellow knife-maker Harvey Draper while attending Snow College. But before he finished school, he was lured away by an offer to make knives in Spokane, Washington. "Like so many students, I didn't know where I was going, or what I was going to do, so I dropped out even though I was almost done with school and took off for Spokane."
He ended up staying a year, going from there to Lawndale and Riverside California, working with tradesman Bob Loveless. Knives made with the "Loveless-Johnson"' trademark are now highly prized by collectors. In 1974, Johnson was returning home to Utah for the annual deer hunt when he was hit by a drunk driver in Nevada. He suffered a broken pelvis and broken ribs, and spent weeks recovering in a hospital. "I was wearing a seat belt, it saved my life," Johnson said. "I decided I might as well finish my schooling, since I was back in Utah." After finishing up at Snow, he enrolled at BYU, and met his wife. The rest is history -- or destiny. | 
