The event happened when I was in Little League. I was twelve years old and it was the last year of my little league career. I had hit three previous homeruns including an opening day round tripper. My grandmother was there to witness my first homerun, but my parents were vacationing and missed the event. For whatever reason the next two homers were also missed by my parents. My Father was extremely upset about missing my feats of strength and was catching crap from his friends about missing such a father son baseball event. So, as his absence became sort of joke between me and him, he made a point of not missing or being late for any other games for the rest of the season. His diligence was soon rewarded, when (two games after my third dinger) on June 13, 1986, against the Hyde Park Chiefs I stepped up to the plate on my first at bat with bases loaded and sent the ball flying over the right field fence (200 ft.) into a pile of thick thatched grass and weeds. My father was ecstatic and I've only seen my father have this reaction a half dozen times in my life so as I was rounding the bases I was beaming from ear to ear at not only what I accomplished but that my dad finally got to see me accomplish it. He was so excited that he quickly went to the right field fence and search through the thick grass and mud to retrieve the home run ball for me. He was having difficulty finding it and wasn't paying attention to the game as we continued the inning and batted around. Now I had a friendly rivalry with the other veterans of our team as I was the cleanup hitter and know one else on the team had hit a home run thus far. As the three hitter (Mike McDonald and fellow rival) took ball four and headed to first base he began to realizing that again I was coming up to bat with bases loaded, and began jumping up and down in frustration for not getting the opportunity to hit away and have his chance at some of the glory. I honestly wasn't think about hitting another homer, because I had already accomplished what I wanted, which was to have my Dad see me do what so many ball players before me dream of, hitting a real homerun and having your dad beam with pride. So, I approach the at bat with just wanting to get a hit and drive runs in. My dad, still in right field searching for my ball, soon realized I was up again and paused his search to again watch my at bat. Well I don't remember the count but I do remember hitting and pulling the ball hard down the right field line. I knew it was gone as soon as I hit it and everyone was cheering for me. I couldn't believe the feat I had just accomplished, and as I was rounding the bases the runner in front of me was again jumping up and down and pounding his fist in the air at the fact that I had done it again, and he again came up short. So now my dad was in search of two homers. I'm probably exaggerating but it felt like my dad was out there a good 30-45 minutes looking for those balls, but he wasn't going to stop until he found both of them, which he eventually did. I hit two more homers during the season and tied a team record with seven, but to this day I remember this event as if I was still twelve years old not only because I hit 2 grand slams in an inning (which is pretty special) but the fact that I was able to do it as my dad looked on with pride seeing his son hit a homerun for the first time.