By the close of the 1973 baseball season, it had become apparent, to the extreme consternation of some and the eager anticipation of many, that Atlanta Braves outfielder Hank Aaron was going to break Babe Ruth’s big-league record for career home runs.

At the time, 714 – Ruth’s career mark, which might need that explanation now but did not then – was considered the mountaintop of sports records and far beyond the reach of other ballplayers, mainly because it had been.

Ruth became baseball’s career home run leader 1921 and hit No. 714 in 1935. When Aaron made his big-league debut in 1954, only five players had at least half as many home runs as Ruth and No. 2 Jimmie Foxx had come up 180 home runs short of the Sultan of Swat’s total.

The imminent demise of the hallowed mark put Aaron in the spotlight in a way he had never experienced, which might seem odd for a player with 713 home runs at a time in U.S. sports when being Willie Mays was a bigger deal than being Johnny Unitas or Bill Russell.

But Aaron had avoided the luminosity of the home-run star through two decades of hitting four-baggers like clockwork in the big leagues. He did not have the lust-for-life aura of the Golden Age of Sports that Ruth exuded even in death. He did not have the on-the-field flair and style of Mays, a fellow Alabamian who had been anointed with the ‘well, if anyone can do it’ designation. He did not have the collection of Herculean moonshots that won Mickey Mantle the undying loyalty of New York City.

What Aaron did have was 713 home runs – an accomplishment of baseball genius compiled by someone who worked like a perennial Employee of the Month. And four days into his 21st big-league season, Aaron had 715. He collected the record-breaking home run on April 8, 1974 – 50 years ago today.

Aaron was alive for almost 47 years after that home run, and during that time, he transformed into something that went beyond 715.

Aaron became a national treasure.

“I don’t think it’s a stretch when you talk about an American sports icon, there is nobody that certainly rates any higher than Henry Aaron,” said Bud Selig, then the commissioner of Major League Baseball, on the 40th anniversary of 715. “His achievements on the field are remarkable, but the most remarkable part of Henry Aaron is that you couldn’t be prouder of the person.”

Maybe it was the way that Aaron handled his detractors that earned him admirers.

In the run-up to the record, Aaron got so much fan mail that the U.S. Postal Service gave him a plaque. Not all the letters carried messages of encouragement. Some of the writers were infuriated that a Black man was on the brink of breaking the home-run mark established by a white player.

The hate mail went beyond racial epithets to death threats credible enough for the FBI to suggest Aaron skip certain games. He wouldn’t.

“Hank never showed his fear,” Atlanta teammate Dusty Baker said. “But we did. I remember one day we were told that there was going to be this guy in a red coat that was going to shoot Hank in Atlanta. Hank told us not to sit by him on the bench. Me and (outfielder) Ralph (Garr) couldn’t concentrate one game. We kept looking for the guy in the red coat the whole game.

“Hank acted like it didn’t bother him, but I know there was a lot of pain.”

After he hit 715, Aaron said on the field: “I just thank God it’s all over.” But he hadn’t let the squeaky wheel of hateful ignorance distract him from his game or allowed it to change his blue-collar approach to completing a baseball masterpiece. Instead, he approached the pursuit with what Sports Illustrated’s Ron Fimrite called “innate dignity.”

Maybe what happened in baseball after Aaron left the playing field burnished his reputation.

After 715, Aaron had 40 homers left in his bat. He went back to Milwaukee, where he’d starred for the Braves for 12 years before the team moved to Atlanta, to finish his career playing two seasons for the Brewers.

San Francisco Giants outfielder Barry Bonds broke Aaron’s career home run record of 755 on Aug. 27, 2007. That seemed only to raise the respect for Aaron. Because of Bonds’ strong association with performance-enhancing drugs in the game’s steroid era, baseball fans often refer to Aaron now as “the real home run king.” There’s even a website in honor of Aaron’s “755 steroid-free home runs.”

Maybe Aaron’s status benefited from what he did not do after his playing days. He did not spend the rest of his life signing his autograph for money.

By all accounts, Aaron made lots of money. His 755 Restaurant Corporation operated Arby’s, Church’s and Popeye’s franchises. He became the first Black owner of a BMW dealership in the United States and built a string of car lots.

But Aaron wasn’t just busy making money. He was giving it away, too. The Hank Aaron Chasing the Dream Foundation provides funding at 12 institutions across the country for 4 for 4 Endowed Scholarships to help deserving at-risk students “chase their dreams” by funding educational opportunities. (Aaron had 12 big league games in which he went 4-for-4 at the plate.)

“I am very proud to be an American,” Aaron said. “This country has so much potential. I’d just like to see things better, or whatever, and I think it will be.

“I hope (young adults) understand they are very lucky to be born in this country. The most important thing they need to understand is that when they go to school, go to college and graduate, it’s to make a contribution to this country.”

Aaron wasn’t through with baseball when he hung up his spikes. Four days after retirement, he became the Braves’ player development director and took charge of Atlanta’s minor-league system. In 1989, he transitioned to senior vice president and assistant to the president for the Braves, a position he held for the rest of his life.

Home run No. 715 gave Aaron the microphone, and he used it to advocate for more opportunities for minorities to manage and coach in professional baseball and for a greater effort from the top of the baseball world to get Black youngsters in the United States involved in baseball at its grassroots.

Of course, Aaron went into the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum as a first-ballot selection in 1982 and joined Ruth as the only players with an entire museum room devoted to their careers.

The Braves and Brewers retired his No. 44 in celebratory days at the ballpark. Atlanta erected a statue of Aaron at its new ballpark.

In 1999, Major League Baseball began presenting an award named for Aaron to the top hitter in each league. The next year, Aaron was selected for baseball’s All-Century team.

But Aaron’s accolades after 715 went beyond baseball, illuminating his status as more than an old ballplayer.

In 2001, President Bill Clinton, a Democrat, awarded Aaron the Presidential Citizens Medal. The next year, President George Bush, a Republican, presented him with the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

In 2010, a painting of Aaron was unveiled in the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s National Portrait Gallery in Washington.

“It means an awful lot to me,” Aaron said. “I’m not one to go around bragging about certain things. … I am quite thrilled that people say that he, whatever he did, should be appreciated. That makes me feel good.”

When Aaron died on Jan. 22, 2021, the governors of Alabama and Georgia ordered flags in their states to be lowered to half-staff.

How much of a transformation did that signal?

As a youngster in Mobile, Aaron had hidden under his bed from the Ku Klux Klan. To get the Braves to move from Milwaukee, Atlanta leaders had to promise to rid the city of its Jim Crow laws.

Mark Inabinett is a sports reporter for Alabama Media Group. Follow him on Twitter at @AMarkG1.