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But he must. Though the hate mail has tapered off, armed bodyguards are still close by. When he is on the field, plainclothes detectives patrol the left-field bleachers, their pistols hidden in binocular cases. On the road, Aaron sticks close to his hotel room and has all his calls screened. In Atlanta, he parks his car in the stadium tunnel rather than in the players' parking lot. He often eats in the clubhouse to avoid the crush of autograph seekers. And every chance he gets, he slips away and goes fishing on his 27-ft. cabin cruiser, where "no phones can bother you."
Never Flashy. Aaron's lifestyle, subdued to begin with, has grown even more so. Divorced from his wife Barbara in 1971, he lives alone in a five-room high-rise apartment in Atlanta, within view of the stadium lights. Often a couple of his four children stay with him. He is engaged to Billye Williams, an attractive and articulate widow who is a hostess on an Atlanta TV talk show. Fastidious but never flashy in his wardrobe, Aaron is proud that he was named one of the ten best-dressed men in the U.S. two years ago. He drives a 1973 Chevrolet and often eats lunch in a tiny diner in the black section of Atlanta. Otherwise, says a friend, "Hank's idea of a big night out is dinner at a Polynesian restaurant."
Though he generally shuns the banquet circuit, Aaron has become increasingly active in various black causes, and he counts the Rev. Jesse Jackson as one of his closest friends. "It's just like a man going to school," he says of his change from reticent rookie ballplayer to outspoken social critic. "When a man gets a Ph.D., he's more qualified to speak, and more people listen to him. I decided that whenever I got into a position to speak out more, I would."
Recently, when asked what advice he would give black children about going into sports, Aaron said: "Until we crack the area of managers, front-office personnel and coaches, there's really no hope for black kids coming into sports. We're giants on the field for 20 years. Then they're finished with us. What baseball needs to do is to give blacks an opportunity to show their ability to lead in other places than just the field."
That is precisely what Aaron plans to do when his $200,000-a-year contract expires next season. "I'd like to stay in baseball," he says. "All I want is a chance like Stan Musial got, a chance to prove myself in the front office." As for his pursuit of Ruth's record, he says: "To be frank, it is not as important to me as to baseball. The only thing I ever thought about was to be as good as I could. I never thought about being the greatest ballplayer or anything, just to be as good as I could." In Aaron's case, good has been more than great.
* Tommie Aaron, 34, who played for the Braves in the late 1960s, is now managing the club's farm team in Savannah.