The son and father connection unites Tommy Bissmeyer, left, and his father, Bill Bissmeyer. Five years ago, after the death of his son, John, Bill helped to start a monthly breakfast with the goal of strengthening the bonds between parents and children.
The tears still come five years after the crushing loss. Yet Bill Bissmeyer tries to keep the focus on the magic he has seen during that time.
So he tells the story of how the simple idea of a monthly breakfast that strengthens the bonds between fathers and their children has mushroomed into a concept that has been embraced by hundreds of groups in at least 40 states and six countries.
He also describes “the miracle” that happens during one part of the special breakfasts—when each father stands up, introduces his son or daughter and then publicly shares at least one reason he is proud of his child.
“The look on the child’s face is like one of those time-delayed pictures of a flower blooming,” Bissmeyer says. “When the father introduces the daughter and says something sincerely about her, she literally grows in her father’s praise.”
He also weaves the story of a father who brought his children to one of the breakfasts, a man who wished he could invite his own estranged father to the event.
“There had been a rift between them, and they hadn’t seen each other in months,” says Bissmeyer, a member of St. Simon the Apostle Parish in Indianapolis. “They came together to one of the breakfasts. It isn’t a Disney movie, but they see each other now.”
The magic in each of those moments can be traced back to Bissmeyer, who started the special breakfasts, but he refuses to take credit. He doesn’t even mention the honor he received from Tony Dungy, the head coach of the Indianapolis Colts and one of the founders of All Pro Dad, an international organization devoted to helping men become better fathers.
Bissmeyer and Dungy share a love for football and a desire to have men understand that their most important work is not their job but being a father. They also share the one heartache that no father ever wants to know—losing a child.
For Dungy, the heartbreak came in December 2005, when his 18-year-old son, James, committed suicide. For Bissmeyer, the tears and the pain began on Jan. 5, 2002, when his 17-year-old son, John, died in his sleep from a viral infection that attacked his heart.
MAKING TIME FOR GOD’S GREATEST GIFTS
Two months after John’s death, the monthly breakfasts began, starting with a group of fathers and sons associated with the high school John attended—Cathedral High School in Indianapolis.
Since then, the concept has been adopted by high schools across Indiana, including Roncalli High School in Indianapolis and Seton Catholic High School in Richmond. And the breakfasts spread nationally and internationally when All Pro Dad contacted Bissmeyer about his approach and made it one of its foundations for strengthening father-child relationships.
Seeing the benefits of the breakfasts, some mothers of high school students have also embraced the concept, setting up mother-daughter and mother-son monthly breakfasts.
“There are now 770 groups,” Bissmeyer says. “They don’t know who John is. They don’t know who I am. They just know it’s a neat idea for them to get together with their kids. It’s been a fun, light way for fathers to appreciate the greatest gifts God has given them—and that’s their kids. We’re so busy with our lives. We spend more time planning for our kids and providing for them instead of enjoying them.”
The idea for the breakfasts started when Bissmeyer, now 53, was in high school.
“My father was an old German who worked extremely hard,” Bissmeyer recalls. “He had five children. I was the last one at home. He would take me out a couple of early Fridays a month. It was just a little greasy spoon, country diner. It was a cherished time for my dad and me in high school. We tried to start Dad’s Day before John died. When John died, I wasn’t doing well. We kept getting calls from friends.”
The friends remembered Bissmeyer’s desire to have the monthly breakfasts. They helped the father of five sons plan the first one in March 2002.
“When John passed away, we said, ‘Let’s do something to honor the sons we still have,’ ” recalls Pat Fitzgerald, one of Bissmeyer’s friends. “We started with what we thought would be five sons and five dads, and it turned out to be 45 people. It seemed dads needed a structure to make sure they were there. On Fridays, we all seemed to be in town.”
From that humble beginning, the breakfasts have continued to grow.
“We’re now in 43 states and six foreign countries,” says Darrin Gray, the director of public relations for All Pro Dad. “We’ve been starting five new chapters a week. Schools are a big driver of what we do. These breakfasts are a wonderful way to take our programming out to tens of thousands of people across the country.”
Gray adds, “Bill’s story is heartbreaking at one level, just as Tony’s is. Yet there is good that comes out of this.”
SATISFYING A HUNGER
Darcy Miles noticed the impact that the breakfasts have for fathers and their children at Roncalli. She wanted to do something similar for mothers of Roncalli students. The mother-child breakfasts started at Roncalli last year.
The breakfasts seem to satisfy a hunger for closeness between parents and teenagers.
Eric Miles is the youngest of Darcy Miles’ three children. He’s a senior at Roncalli whose schedule is dominated by playing football and studying.
“With me being at football the whole time, and with homework, I don’t get a lot of time to spend with my mom and dad,” Eric, 18, says. “So it’s kind of nice to sit down and eat with them and talk with them.”
His mother agrees.
“It’s one-on-one time,” says Darcy Miles, the president of the Roncalli Parent Organization. “In our house, we usually run around and don’t have time to talk. It’s nice to talk and have breakfast together. We got a lot of positive feedback. Moms really like the opportunity to come and share with their sons and daughters.”
So do fathers.
“It’s nice to be just dad and the kids,” say Ben Stallings, a Roncalli parent and a father of five. “We did that when they were younger. It’s harder as they get older, and they have so many other things going on. It would be nice to do this once a week.”
His 15-year-old son, Ray, enjoys the time, too.
“Me and my dad are real busy,” says Ray, a sophomore at Roncalli. “It’s nice to get up early and do this once a month. It gives us a chance to talk. I like that.”
The approach to the breakfasts is simple, Bissmeyer says.
“The ingredients are breakfast, kids, an introduction and praise from the father of the child, and a 10-minute speaker,” he says. “It’s kind of like saying you invented the cake when a cake has been around forever. You’re just showing people the ingredients to use.”
He pauses and adds, “I never had an inkling that this would grow into what it has. It’s not to be credited to anyone except the individual father who takes the time to come.”
The breakfasts can get emotional for parents and children who don’t see each other on a regular basis because of a divorce. The emotion flows through everyone in the room when the speaker for the morning is a father who shares the story of a child who died.
“Every one of those fathers says the same thing, ‘Hug your kid,’ ” Bissmeyer says. “That’s their main message. Nothing else but ‘Hug your kid.’ ”
A MEETING OF MAGIC AND HEARTBREAK
Bissmeyer and his wife of 31 years, Helen, know the power of that message as much as anyone. They feel the depth of that pain and heartbreak intensely.
As Bissmeyer talks in his office, he points with pride and love to the pictures of their five sons that are featured prominently on the main wall. The photos capture each of their sons—Billy, Joey, Tommy, John and Andrew—playing sports.
“John lived football,” his father says. “He missed one play his junior year on defense. That’s when his chinstrap broke. He loved the game.”
His father loved the game, too. He loved watching John play it. Even more, he just loved his son.
That love comes through as he recalls a story of finding John as a boy wrapping Christmas presents for everyone in their family.
Tears water in Bissmeyer’s eyes as he shares the story.
“He died when he was 17. He died in his sleep of a virus infection we didn’t know he had.”
He lowers his voice and confides that sometimes he likes to think that John is just away at college in Michigan. Then he catches himself, fights back the tears and repeats a point he has made several times.
“If Dad’s Day was just based on loss, it would have dried up and fizzled out,” he says. “It isn’t about the loss of a child. It’s about celebrating the kids we have. It’s about celebrating family.”
He points to one other picture on the wall, just below the pictures of his sons. It’s a photo of his and Helen’s first grandchild, the son of their son, Billy.
The 10-month-old baby is named John Bissmeyer. His grandfather says the name with joy, pride, love.
Bissmeyer shares one last story about the parent-child breakfasts. It’s a story of both magic and heartbreak.
He recalls a recent meeting he had with another person in a restaurant on the south side of Indianapolis. While Bissmeyer was there, the restaurant manager approached several tables and handed cards to the customers. The manager eventually came to the table where Bissmeyer was sitting. The manager gave Bissmeyer one of the cards and explained that it was an invitation to an All Pro Dad’s breakfast for parents and children.
The restaurant manager asked Bissmeyer, “Have you ever been to one of these?”
Bissmeyer replied, “Not down here.”
The date of that conversation was Aug. 20—his son John’s birthday.
“It gave me a smile on a bad day,” his father says.
For information about starting a parent-child breakfast, go to https://www.allprodad.com/dads-day
