When Abraham Lincoln died the morning after being shot in the head at Ford’s Theater in 1865, his secretary of war, Edwin M. Stanton, reportedly uttered the famous phrase “now, he belongs to the ages.”It would be presumptuous to compare the late Harry Agganis to Abe Lincoln, of course. But Stanton’s words, modified a bit, are certainly fitting. By the time Agganis died, at the age of 26, in 1955, he didn’t simply belong to Classical. He belonged to all of Lynn ? and probably well beyond.It’s a tall order explaining the legacy of an athlete who died in 1955 to the students of today ? Agganis died before their parents (a lot of them) were even born. But Thursday was declared “Agganis Day” in the City of Lynn, and as part of the festivities, juniors and seniors from Classical, English, Tech and the Fecteau-Leary alternative school were invited to view an edited version of the 2-plus-hour film that painstakingly documents “The Golden Greek’s” life. And if there’s a central theme that resonates, it’s the idea that Harry was more than just a Lynn guy who made good. He was, in many ways, to Greeks what Joe DiMaggio was to Italians: a true hero to ethnic families whose children were looking not only for direction but, perhaps, a way to assimilate into the American culture. And nothing cuts to the heart of American culture quite like sports.Harry had it all ? looks, charm, athleticism, and a genuine way that ingratiated him to just about everyone. As the film shows, luminaries such as Ted Williams and Johnny Pesky loved him. Former Gov. Michael S. Dukakis extolled his virtues. From the time he was in high school, people well beyond our city’s borders looked up to him.Manning Bowl was routinely sold out whenever Classical played during the Agganis era. He helped lead the Rams to one mythical national championship high school game, and would have been in another had the state of Florida not attached conditions to the invitation that two African-American athletes stay behind. Agganis, along with the rest of his teammates, declined.But he wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t the best of students, for example, though it should be noted that he played in an era where mere athleticism took kids a lot further than it does today. But that’s about the only flaw anyone can find. He continued to dominate the local landscape at Boston University, forgoing other opportunities to play at major U.S. colleges to stay close to his home on Waterhill Street (and the mother to whom he was devoted). And after rewriting the record books at BU, he passed up more lucrative offers to play pro football to sign with the Red Sox so he could be closer to his mother.Baseball didn’t come as naturally to Agganis as either football or basketball, but one supposes that the work he had to do to get up to speed appealed to his competitive nature. The record shows that at the time of his death, on June 27, 1955, he was batting over .300.There is probably no way anyone who wasn’t there to experience it can adequately visualize the outpouring of shock and grief over his death. Even those who were there say it was one of the most astounding things they’ve ever seen. As the film brings out, everyone saw him as indestructible ? including Agganis himself. The idea of him dying was simply incomprehensible. People stood three- and four-deep on the sidewalks from St. George’s Greek Orthodox Church on the Commons to Pine Grove Cemetery, along the route of the funeral procession. This wasn’t just an athlete who died young. He was a hero to everyone he touched.In another month, the city will once again host the myriad of Agganis all-star classics (running from June 24-28). Sixteen new scholar-athletes – many of them from the schools invited to view the film – will receive scholarships in his name, thanks to the ongoing efforts of the Agganis Foundation, which has, since its inception, awarded more than $1.5 million in aid.It’s nice to know that they’ll have some idea about the man for whom these