I’ve met Harmon Killebrew a few times in my life and was sorry to hear that he died Tuesday. Whenever I met him (sometimes just in an autograph line) he was always very gracious and interested in what was going on in my life.
My best Killebrew story, however, happened back when I was in high school. My buddy and I would go to Twins games and always hang around and try to get autographs. For most people, getting autographs at the old Met stadium meant finding a spot outside where the players came out after the game.
Unlike today, security was pretty relaxed and we often were able to get into the tunnels under the stadium and would sometimes be standing right outside the locker rooms of both teams.
One afternoon we made it into the tunnel and were milling around the entrance to the Twins locker room — not sure who was in there. The game had already been over for a while.
Out of the locker room came the equipment manager — his name as Ray Crump. I’m sure he was a nice guy, but we had been in the hallways under the old Met enough to give him the nickname of “Crump the Grump.” That was because he was doing his job — telling us to get out of the tunnel and back upstairs!
That day he said something like “get out of here, what are you doing down here?” I came up with the answer, “we’re waiting for Mr. Killebrew to get his autograph.” We had no idea if Harmon was still around, but the answer made sense.
Seconds later a voice rang from the locker room — “That’s okay Ray, send them in.” The voice was that of Harmon Killebrew and he invited us into the Twins locker room. Even then, he not only signed the autographs, but talked with us for several minutes as he sat on a bench alone in his uniform in the Twins locker room.
His willingness to give royal, gracious and courteous treatment to a couple of brash kids stuck with me for a lifetime.