Goodbye killer

A lot of people never knew the real “killer.”

Harmon Killebrew was born June 29, 1936, in Payette, Idaho. He was signed by the Washington Senators on June 19, 1954. He made his major league debut June 23, 1954 as a pinch runner for Clyde Vollmer in the Senators’ loss to the Chicago White Sox.

He hit his first major league home run a year and a day later, June 24, 1955, off Billy Hoeft in the fifth inning of the Senators’ loss to Detroit.
Even though that was just his 29th career at-bat, it was hard to imagine then that Killebrew would stick around to retire fifth on the all-time home run list after a 22-season career.
The reason? Killebrew had trouble hitting. Maybe it’s because he came straight from high school and didn’t have the minor league. In any case, after that game where he hit his first home run, he was only batting .105. But when he added another home run a couple days later, the Senators knew the kid, who would be called killer, had the potential to be something special. A few years in the minor leagues proved that as he averaged one homer every 18 at bats and had a .290 batting average the few years he actually did play in the minors.
Killebrew became the Senators full time third baseman in 1959 and soon everyone knew the kid named killer.
He led the American League in home runs that season, the first of six season in which he would lead the league and the first of eight in which he would hit 40 or more.
And his salary in 1959 was under $10,000. He became the franchise’s first $100,000 player when the Twins paid him $115,000 in 1971.
The good portion of his career was played in the day when baseball players were still considered normal people. But he was part of the movement that began to see athletes more as stars. But he was a fan favorite. There are file photos of him signing autographs before games, even in his final few seasons, A photo of him posing with a kid in the stands, among others.
When he retired in 1975, he was fifth on the all-time home run list, with 573.
After he retired, he remained involved in the game and was often at “old timer” games, promotions and special events. He had some bad investments in the 1980s and his life changed for good in the 1990s.
The 1984 Hall of Fame inductee was near death due to complications with medications to relieve knee pain in the 1990s. He spent over three months in the hospital. The complications had ruined his insides and he was sent him home to home health care, the doctor expecting him to end up in hospice care then. Killebrew overcame that too, and he had a collapsed lung, a tumor behind his lung, a bad stomach and other various problems. It became so bad at one point a doctor sent him to home health care and fully expected his death shortly. But Killebrew overcame that too.
After that, he became a spokesperson for VistaCare Hospice and would make appearances across the country.
That charity work was the side of Killebrew a lot of people who knew him as a baseball star didn’t know about and a lot of people touched by the charities knew him as a charitable giver and not a baseball star. He organized several benefit golf tournaments and in 1998 formed the Harmon Killebrew Foundation.

It’s rare that you can find an individual that people can’t find any ill-will about. But unless you want to count the fact that he was divorced and remarried, that’s often the case with Killebrew. His former teammates loved him, his opponents feared him on the field, but loved him off it. But when you study the life of the late Harmon Killebrew, you understand why.

To learn more about Killebrew and his foundation visit Harmon Killebrew Foundation