ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: FRIDAY, April 8, 1994                   TAG: 9404080128
SECTION: SPORTS                    PAGE: B6   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: G.D. CLAY NEWSDAY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium


AARON FAR TOO BUSY TO BE BITTER

Henry Aaron 60 years old, graying, ubiquitous, active - rises every morning around 5:30 or 6. "I've been doing it for about two years now," he said. "I want to stay in shape."

He starts his day with exercise and sometimes goes to the ballpark to ride a stationary bicycle and work out on Nautilus equipment for 80 minutes.

It's part of his physical fitness routine now, during a more civil and serene time. But on the days leading to April 8, 1974, he had a much different routine. When he left his home to go to the park, he was escorted by bodyguard Calvin Wardlaw. That's because when he was in pursuit of Babe Ruth's career home runs record, Aaron received hate mail, in addition to letters of encouragement. "I would say the letters were 60-40 negative to positive," he said.

"It was mind-boggling that people would want to harm him," said Wardlaw, 54, who also escorted Aaron during spring training. "I always had my binocular case with me. I had my snub-nosed .38 and my badge in my case. He picked up from me that you never sit with your back to a door. It was quite an experience. There were no incidents, thank God. It worked out."

Aaron figures he received about 500 letters, which he keeps in a huge trunk in the attic of his home in Atlanta. "I'm going to keep them all," he said. They are his keepsakes of reality.

The 20th anniversary of his monumental home run is today. Unfortunately, it's a bittersweet occasion.

"I don't think about April 8 a lot, I guess because of all the stuff that happened," he said. "You don't want to bring back that stuff. You don't want to think about it."

But Aaron insists: "When you talk about the home run, you have to talk about the thing in its entirety."

He was talking about the racial baggage he carried, in addition to his home run bat. After all, he was called "The Hammer."

Aaron received numerous threats. So did his daughter, Gaile, while she was a student at Fisk University, a predominantly black school in Nashville, Tenn. Kidnapping threats made against her were investigated by the FBI, and she was told not to leave the campus for a time.

On April 4, 1974, before a game against the Reds in Cincinnati, Aaron asked for a moment of silence before the game. On that same date in 1968, Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis, Tenn. Aaron thought it would be a memorial tribute to King. But the Reds refused. "They said they didn't want to get involved in politics," Aaron said. In that game, Aaron tied the record of 714 home runs. It could have been a more momentous occasion if the moment of silence had been observed.

Then, on April 8, he hit No. 715 against Al Downing of the Los Angeles Dodgers in Atlanta.

"I was excited," Aaron said. "I was happy. I was glad it was over with. There was so much negative controversy about it, instead of a peaceful time. I think I went through all hell."

In retrospect, he envies Pete Rose, who broke Ty Cobb's career hits record. "His was different," Aaron said. "He had a wonderful time."

What should have been a joyous occasion was surrounded by a shroud of hate, animosity and negativism, all of which prevented Aaron from enjoying The Moment. Instead, he had to worry about his daughter's safety, as well as his own.

That was then; this is now. Gaile is working in Atlanta, and Aaron says, "I am content." He says he's not bitter nor angry. But . . .

"If you would have asked me that question 10 years ago," he said, "I would say I was bitter."

Time can assuage feelings, change the focus. Now, as Aaron says, "I'm actively involved in so many things, I don't have time to be bitter."

Aaron is vice president of business development for the airport channel in Ted Turner's company; a baseball licensee, enabling him to market T-shirts; owner of eight Arby's fast-food franchises in Milwaukee; a member of the Atlanta Braves' board of directors.

Yes, his cupboard is full.

As for today, Aaron said he plans a nice, quiet evening. "Or you might find me on the tennis court," he said. "We'll have more daylight with the time change. The tennis court sounds real good."

That's Aaron's own tennis court. He also spends time fishing for largemouth bass at his five-acre lake and jogging on his treadmill.

Always on the move. Pretty good for a 60-year-old legend who doesn't plan on slowing any time soon. But, as he half-jokingly said, "When you get my age, part of you breaks down every year." Still, he's in good health; a no-salt diet and low cholesterol help keep him that way.

Aaron will keep moving as long as he can. "I have a lot of frequent-flyer miles," he said. He was off to San Francisco to present an RBI award to Barry Bonds, then back home for Easter, then off to Cleveland to present a similar award to Albert Belle.

Too busy to be bitter.

Keywords:
BASEBALL



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