I guess that started back in the 1600's, when my great-great-great-great-great-great-grea
An Arab pilgrim was given the blade in thanks by an Indian criminal he'd met along the road, wounded by a lion, and bandaged. The Indian Criminal stole it from a Chinese pirate, who'd found it washed ashore on the body of a Japanese courier who was carrying it from a master craftsman to a newly-founded samurai family.
The pilgrim, a Christian Arab member of an esoteric druze cult, had sworn total pacifism, and did not wish to carry the blade, but would not refuse a gift, nor let such art go to waste. The first man to offer the pilgrim kindness as he staggered into the streets of Constantinople was my great-great-great-great-great-great-grea
And it's been sitting in my family's umbrella racks in all the generations since.