
On Father’s Day, we celebrate and honor all the great men who serve, sacrifice for, and love their families!
We are grateful for you and for your example which builds solid foundations for society. The world is stronger because of role models like you.
Your lives inspire us to cultivate programs for young dads that will empower and encourage them to be at their best for themselves and their families, especially as they witness the miracle of new life.
I have the great fortune of having a "hero" dad so this Father’s Day, I thought I’d share a heartwarming story of the man whose influence on my life shaped me. It's an event from decades ago that makes me laugh every time I think of it. I hope you enjoy the story.
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"Years ago for Father's Day, I surprised my dad with a hot air balloon ride. Up until the last minute of the car ride to Branchburg, he didn't know what was about to happen to him, until he saw the giant basket in the open field, and even then it didn't quite sink in.
One thing to know about my father: he's a practical, logical, realist. Definitely not a "balloon surprise" kind of guy. But in my 20 year old mind I thought it was the coolest gift ever and I worked hard for it, too. It took me weeks to save up for the $110 ticket.
I have to say my father was a good sport. With no mental preparation at all he climbed onboard the wicker aircraft and ascended into the June sky.
My mom and I followed behind with the ground crew in the balloon chase van. It was all so exciting (at least for me), though my mother seemed genuinely terrified. Still, she mustered a few smiles as I kept reassuring her how spectacular it all was.
Everything went according to plan, until we lost track of the balloon. Dusk turned to dark and then it started to rain. It seemed like hours went by as we drove around frantically searching for the missing balloon in the downpour.
My mom began to cry. Ambulances drove by with sirens blaring. All I could think of was that I killed my father ... with a giant balloon.
Eventually, I succumbed to the tears as well. Would we ever get him back?
Meanwhile, uncertainty loomed in the sky. The time had come for an emergency landing.
With darkness at hand and no open fields in sight, the balloon abruptly settled (aka crashed) in a small backyard guarded by large, angry dogs.
My father sprained his ankle from the violent touch down.
After the dogs were restrained by their owners, the balloon crew managed to drag the humiliated wreck to the side of the highway. They stood stunned and silent, ultimately hitching a ride with a trusting soul in a red pick up truck.
Miraculously (and mercifully) while on the hunt for my father in the balloon chase van, we somehow spotted the large wicker basket on the back of the truck.
What a relief! I didn't kill my dad.
Our reunion was a little awkward as he relayed his ordeal, limping back to our car, soaking wet.
I was extremely embarrassed and the guilt was heavy.
Still, despite the terror and injury, I had to ask. "How was it, dad? Was it amazing? Did you love it?"
And then my father spoke the words I treasure to this day:
He said, "Rosanda, next year, just get me a shirt."
Rosanda Grau
Co-Founder, Executive Director
INSPIRE Family Life Center








