The day I met Hank Aaron

Spending days catching the rubber ball bouncing off the side of our house like Willie Mays, smashing rocks over the pasture fence as Hank Aaron, or rounding the wooden-plank bases in my back yard like Mickey Mantle catapulted me into a wonderful, make-believe world.

Never, in my deepest imagination did I ever dream I’d ever meet one of them — much less interview one of the three greats.

But it happened.

In 1978, I sat down at a table in New Ulm, MN across from the great Hank Aaron. It was an unforgettable moment. Forty years of wear and tear allowed the memories to fade. That is, until this past week when “Hammerin’ Hank” passed away at the age of 87.

Imagines of Hank slammin’ the ball over the fence, rounding the bases after hitting his 715th home run to break Babe Ruth’s record, and many diving, fence-smashing catches brought it all back.

New Ulm’s American Legion baseball team that year made history as the “Minnesota Lumber Company” when they smashed their way through the regionals in Rapid City, SD, and drove to Yakima, WA for the national American Legion Tournament.

Led by future Major League Baseball catcher Terry Steinbach and his talented brother Tom, the New Ulm Legion made history. They didn’t win, but they put New Ulm on the map.

The result was a huge banquet honoring the team and the guest speaker was Hank Aaron.

As sports editor of the New Ulm Journal, I’d gone to Yakima to cover the team. Now, I was sitting down at a table with one of my childhood heroes and was surrounded by memories so thick I could almost cut them with a knife.

This was, in some small way, my own special “Field of Dreams.”

Henry Louis Aaron nicknamed “Hammer” or “Hammerin’ Hank”, played 23 seasons from 1954 through 1976. He spent 21 seasons with the Milwaukee/Atlanta Braves in the National League and two seasons with the Milwaukee Brewers in the American League.

Sitting there with Hank Aaron wasn’t easy. With all his greatness flowing over me like a Minnesota snowstorm, my mind went black.

What can I ask a major league great who is regarded as one of the best of all times?

Frankly, I was so in awe of the man I don’t remember one single thing I asked him. I don’t even remember writing the article. All I remember is, “I met Hank Aaron.”

Aaron hit 24 or more home runs every year from 1955 through 1973 and is one of only two players to hit 30 or more home runs in a season at least fifteen times.

The one thing that stayed with me was the incredible pain Hank Aaron carried because of the way he was treated as an African-American breaking into the major leagues.

He talked about the hate mail he received, the slurs flung at him, and living in daily fear for his life.

We all know what Jackie Robinson went through to become the major league’s first African-American player. But few knew or felt the pain Hank Aaron endured.

But that day, I went away understanding that pain.

Aaron was born and raised in and around Mobile, Alabama. He appeared briefly in the Negro American League and in minor league baseball before starting his major league career.

When his book, “I Had A Hammer,” came out, I went right out and bought it. Hoping to gain further insight into this man, I read the pages carefully and emerged with an even deeper and sorrowful measure of pain this man had endured. [Click the picture to look at the book on Amazon.com]

Through the years I watched Hank Aaron from afar, but carefully scrutinized how he handled himself. What I saw was a deeply dedicated, honorable man who quietly did everything in his power to help young baseball players while making every attempt to help America close the gap of inequality.

That day in 1978 when I met Hank Aaron became all the more vivid when TV tributes talked about the hundreds of hate letters Hank Aaron received every single day.

Yet, all the man did was go out every single day, head held high, mouth tightly clenched and honorably smashed home runs, made tremendous catches and throws, and stole more bases than most faster players.

During the funeral service for Aaron, former Atlanta Brave great and the Hall of Fame’s Chipper Jones honored his former mentor by telling a story of how Aaron told his Brave colleagues they should draft, “That Jones Boy.” He said, “I owe a lot of credit to Hank for making me an Atlanta Brave.”

Jones went on to say he recalled the day while playing when he looked up into the stands and saw Aaron looking down at him with a sparkle in his eyes that seemed to tell him, “I’m proud of you.”

Today, a moment of pride swells up within me when I think about that very special day in 1978 when I sat down with Hank Aaron.

Back then I was in awe and star-struck. Today, I can’t believe it actually happened. My newspaper career is now in my rear-view mirror. But those days when I bounced the ball off my house or socked rocks over the fence like Hank Aaron, once more come to life.

[Read another account of Hank Aaron’s visit to New Ulm here:  Wyczawski recalls Hank Aaron’s visit to NU]
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