Fifty years after Hank Aaron’s 715th home run, his legacy remains in Gresham Park

ATLANTA — On the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of Henry “Hank” Aaron breaking Babe Ruth’s home run record, Gresham Park on Eastside Atlanta hosted an event inviting Black teenage baseball players on a visit to Chicago for an exhibition. The event, organized by the baseball association of former Atlanta Braves outfielder Marquis Grissom and Mentoring Viable Prospects, brings together dozens of young black baseball players from across Atlanta.

It’s in Gresham Park, where 50 years of Black history, Atlanta history and baseball history converge, where Aaron’s ball looks like it’s still going as much as the sky and everybody down there may be attempting to survive and play the sport they love.

As I pull as much as Gresham Park, a black kid who cannot be older than 10 or 11, wearing baseball shorts and cleats, runs across the car parking zone, a rag flapping in the wind behind him. It’s a picture you’ve got been led to consider is not possible: Little boys in Black Atlanta don’t care about baseball anymore, they’d reasonably spend their time on their phones or play basketball or football. And while which may be true for many individuals, it is not true for a child and his friends who try to get a spot at an exhibition game in Chicago in May.

I attempt to follow the child with my eyes to see where he’s running. I feel he’ll team up with a few of his teammates. Maybe he will consult with his mom on the sidelines. But I’m losing it because my eyes are actually on the batting cage. A black dad throws the ball to his son and offers him instructions with every swing.

Atlanta is a city uniquely positioned to have a good time its black heroes. Of course, to do that requires a singular combination of black political power and luck. But wherever you switch in town, you may see the names, likenesses or monuments of such black icons as civil rights activists Martin Luther King Jr., Ralph David Abernathy and John Lewis.

Aaron is one in every of those icons.

Aaron, a Southern kid born in Mobile, Alabama, who became a Negro League phenom and an MLB phenom all over the world from Boston to Milwaukee, got here to Atlanta with the Braves for the 1966 season. That season began a couple of months after the Voting Rights Act was signed into law 1965 A couple of months into the season in June, black nationalist Stokely Carmichael stood before a crowd in Greenwood, Mississippi and called for Black Power.

In some ways, Aaron would represent the subsequent phase of Black empowerment, where Black people had the chance to enter newly desegregated spaces and show that they might dominate. One where white people could attempt to discredit their skills, but they only couldn’t because a black kid from Alabama was hitting 30 home runs a season. And he broke baseball’s most beloved record in the face of racism and death threats, all in a city that had change into a black mecca.

In the early 2000s, the Gresham Park area of ​​Atlanta was 95% black. It was the heartbeat of town, but at the identical time a neglected space. Still, the park was known for showcasing town’s best black baseball players, who went on to play at historically black universities, other colleges, and even in the professionals. Recent players who’ve passed through Gresham Park include Oakland A’s right fielder Lawrence Butler, Tampa Bay Rays pitcher Taj Bradley and Braves center fielder Michael Harris.

In 2021, the Braves renovated the park, repairing three diamonds. When I got to the park, I saw something I didn’t expect: two of the parks were hosting games played by white teams with white audiences. This can be Atlanta, where gentrification is rampant and places that look latest suddenly change into home to white people. By the way in which, the Gresham Park area is currently only 72% black.

Across from these games was an unrestored diamond that looked like old Gresham Park. This is where local kids are only beginning to learn the game. They are as much as 8 years old, wear T-shirts and sweatpants, catch their first ground balls and throw them somewhere near first base. They do that when the sound of aluminum bats hitting baseballs echoes across the polished fields where white kids play.

“I don’t know why our kids aren’t in these fields,” Jared Fowler said. He’s one in every of the Gresham kids’ coaches, and his son can be determining how you can play the bottom ball. He coaches because his dad introduced him to baseball at a young age and he desires to pass it on. “But this is what has been happening in this area for some time.”

Fowler says kids change into interested in baseball at a really early age, but as they invest in other sports and hobbies, interest wanes. It’s a preferred story, but it surely’s undermined by what’s happening on the pitch behind the park. This is one other refinished diamond with the number 44, Aaron’s number, on the fence. It is on this diamond that black boys jump around, initially throwing rockets into outstretched arms, and batting practice turns right into a series of bombs falling off the back fence. from where perhaps sooner or later the subsequent great Hammerin’ will come.

He looks at Grissom’s brother, Antonio, who currently coaches the Morehouse College baseball team and helps scout players. Next to him is Greg Goodwin, a former Dodgers scout whose Viable Prospects Mentoring program can be undergoing a trial. About half of the children in these programs go to varsity to play baseball.

“We make sure we tell them about Aaron,” Goodwin said. “We make sure they know whose shoulders we are standing on.”

As we talk, one other man walks up, making fun of Morehouse along the way in which. He is older. Ralph Gullatt. He was the coach of Clark’s Atlanta baseball team. He grew up playing at Gresham Park, playing in the 12-year-old league in 1974.

So you were alive when Aaron broke the record?

Gullatt smiles.

“Oh, I was at the game.” His eyes never leave the diamond and watch the kids. He himself is as excited as a baby. Like he was watching Aaron break the record again. “My friend’s mother worked in concessions and got us a ticket. I happened to be there. I remember those white boys running at him. We didn’t know what was going to happen. “Amazing night.”

Gullatt goes back to talking nonsense. There are more men in the world who talk concerning the high schools that ruled the world. The best players to come back from Gresham. There are more white kids than before. They’re talking about baseball. But they’re talking about Atlanta. They discuss Atlanta, which owes a lot to Aaron. The Atlanta that embraced him, held him, and idolized him, despite the fact that much of the country – and parts of Atlanta itself – wanted him gone.

But Aaron and his legacy won’t fade away until there’s somewhat black kid in Gresham Park running to the baseball diamond to catch ground balls with a rag catching the air beneath it.