Everything written or said these past few hours about Mr. Aaron – neither Henry nor Hank to me, but Mr. Aaron – has spoken to the best part of ourselves. A part we have too often misplaced. That part where understanding and grace and strength of character still hold out.
A million words have been spent trying to define a life of great meaning. And everything has been so aptly put – with one glaring exception.
From the AJC: “Aaron, at one time baseball’s all-time home run king, died Friday at the age of 86.”
From the New York Times: “Hank Aaron, who faced down racism as he eclipsed Babe Ruth as baseball’s home run king, hitting 755 homers and holding the most celebrated record in sports for more than 30 years, has died.