
Benchmade
Oregon City, 1988 — a family-owned American knife company that will sharpen your knife for the rest of its life, and whose signature lock is now out of patent.

Portland, 1939 — born from an ad man's Christmas knives, owned by Fiskars since the eighties, and still making some of its tools where it started.
Joe Gerber was a Portland advertising man whose gift kitchen knives, made with local blacksmith David Murphy, turned into a knife company in 1939. Fiskars of Finland has owned it since the late eighties, and the honest shape of today's Gerber is a split catalog: real Portland manufacturing on lines like the Center-Drive and LST, a global supply chain on the value end, and a reputation still climbing back from the offshore era that blurred the difference. The rule for buying Gerber is the rule this site applies everywhere — read the product page, not the brand story.
The best origin story on this site’s tools shelf starts with an advertising man’s Christmas list. Joe Gerber had local blacksmith David Murphy make kitchen knives as client gifts, the gifts outshone the ad business, and in 1939 Gerber Legendary Blades became a Portland company. The factory Gerber opened in 1966 is still there, and some of what’s in the catalog still comes out of it.
Some. That word is the whole page.
Look up the Center-Drive, Gerber’s flagship multi-tool, and read its origin line: made in USA — sheath made in China.
That one sentence is more useful than most brands’ entire About page. It tells you Portland manufacturing is real (the Center-Drive’s sliding center axis driver is machined there; the LST folder is built there and has been since 1980). It tells you the supply chain is global (the Dime and the value end come from it). And it tells you Gerber will state the split per product — which, on a site that has spent thirty-nine pages parsing “designed in” versus “assembled in” versus “made in,” is exactly the behavior we keep asking for.
The buying rule follows: read the product page, not the brand story. Gerber’s catalog is honestly split, and the label travels item by item.
Fiskars — the Finnish company of the orange-handled scissors — has owned Gerber since the late eighties; 1987 is the widely reported year, and Fiskars’ own brand page confirms the ownership today. That puts Gerber in this roster’s growing club of heritage names under distant parents, alongside Ledlenser and Suunto — and in sharpest contrast with Maglite, one owner since 1955, twenty minutes of freeway from Gerber’s oldest competitors.
The honest caveat is the middle era: decades when offshore production grew, the US/import split blurred, and the brand’s reputation with knife people paid for it. Today’s Gerber is climbing back on the strength of the lines it builds at home — but the climb is why the per-product rule matters.
Two more honest lines for the file. Steel: most of the catalog runs 420HC and similar mid-tier steels — fine working metal, easy to sharpen, not what steel enthusiasts drive across town for; they already know the brands that serve them. Warranty: lifetime against defects in North America (original owner or giftee), twenty-five years elsewhere — and it excludes wear, sharpening, and commercial and industrial use, which a site with a trade audience is obligated to say out loud.
The multi-tool drawer. Center-Drive at the top, Multi-Plier 600 as the military-lineage workhorse, Dime on the keychain.
The working knife. StrongArm for fixed-blade field use, LST as the featherweight folder that never left the line.
Camp kitchens. The ComplEAT line is young but pointed at a real gap — tools for the food side of camp, next to a BioLite stove.
Not for: steel connoisseurs, per above. Not for anyone who assumes the logo means Portland — the logo means check the page. And not for commercial daily abuse if the warranty is part of your math; read the exclusion first.
The per-product honesty. “Made in USA, sheath made in China” on the product page is the labeling standard the whole industry should adopt.
Portland is still real. A 1966 factory still shipping tools is a claim most heritage brands can no longer make at all.
The prices tell the truth too. The import end is priced like imports, the US end like US manufacturing, and the catalog doesn’t pretend otherwise.
When the job needs a working tool and the budget wants honesty more than poetry, we reach for Gerber.
The nearest neighbors on the shelf — same categories first, same department after that.

Oregon City, 1988 — a family-owned American knife company that will sharpen your knife for the rest of its life, and whose signature lock is now out of patent.

Solingen since 1869 — a chestnut tree on the blade, a trademark that crossed the Atlantic twice, and four production lines that are not the same country of origin.

Bradford, Pennsylvania — the traditional American pocketknife, owned by Zippo since 1993, and datable to the year by the marks stamped on its tang.

Portland, Oregon, since 1919 — a salmon knife sold out of a Model T that became the light on every hardware store shelf in America.