Minneapolis ? For 14 seasons, Harmon Killebrew was the cleanup hitter for the Minnesota Twins, the ferocious slugger who used his incredible strength to knock baseballs out of the park.

At a memorial service on Thursday night for the Hall of Famer, who died last week at the age of 74 after a bout with esophageal cancer, Killebrew’s shy, quiet wife, Nita, exhibited an entirely different, and perhaps even more impressive, kind of strength.

After heavy hitters like Rod Carew, Paul Molitor and Justin Morneau set the table with touching remarks, Nita took over the cleanup duties, delivering a powerful, tear-jerking thank you to about 4,000 fans, 45 relatives and dozens of former teammates and current Twins at Target Field.

“Thank you for loving my husband,” said Nita, who detailed her husband’s previous health problems that nearly claimed his life 20 years ago. “Thank you for healing his heart and his soul. Thank you for sharing him with me and giving so much to him so he had so much to give back to all of us.

“His body is at rest at his home in Payette. His soul is at peace in that big ballpark in the sky. But his heart will always be in Minnesota here with you.”

Killebrew died on May 17, just a few days after issuing an incredible public statement acknowledging that he had lost his battle with cancer and was entering hospice care. He hit 573 home runs in his career, but was remembered as much for his gentlemanly nature off of the baseball diamond on Thursday night.

“Harmon had I don’t know how many home runs,” former home run king Hank Aaron said. “In his case, really, in all fairness to him, he was No. 1 really. He hit 1,000 home runs because he did so many great things off the field. That’s what counts, it’s not how you play the game, it’s how you play it afterward.”

Commissioner Bud Selig, Jim Kaat and Jim “Mudcat” Grant were among the dignitaries who made the trip to pay tribute to one of the most beloved players in Twins history, with Grant singing a stirring rendition of “What A Wonderful World.”

“Harmon was as tough and feared a competitor on the field as the game has ever known. … He was the dominant slugger of the 1960s,” Selig said. “In this region of the country, Harmon Killebrew was the face of baseball and the game could not have been blessed with a better ambassador.

“Yet we all know the irony of his nickname, ‘The Killer,’ because as a human being he was just the opposite.”

Michael Cuddyer and Morneau both spoke of Killebrew the mentor, telling funny stories about being chastised for their sloppy autographs early in their careers.

“Now write it so I can read it,” Morneau remembered Killebrew telling him during their first meeting. “After a few hundred tries, he finally gave me the OK.”