ASHLAND — Three years ago, the weather was great. Good enough, in fact, for a hot air balloon ride during Ashland’s 28th BalloonFest.
It was June 30, 2018. The temperature hovered in the mid 80s and the wind blew at a comfortable 7 mph.
Michael Miller, who was 21 at the time, joined the 29 other pilots that evening for a flight. He couldn’t imagine what would happen after he landed.
But the indelible memory cannot escape his mind — even three years later.
Miller was flying “Tetris,” a hot air balloon that belonged to John Moran, a 74 year-old BalloonFest veteran. Moran was in the balloon with Miller that night — just another training moment for Miller, who was working toward his dream of becoming a hot air balloon pilot
Miller first met Moran when he was 4 years-old, when the prospect of becoming a pilot for the colorful balloons was just a dream. Moran became a family friend after giving his dad, Greg Miller, and grandmother a flight.
His dream started to become a reality at age 14 when he began lessons under Moran.
When the two landed in a field about 15 minutes from Freer Field, they went through the routine of rolling up the balloon, which is referred to as the “envelope” among aeronauts, and securing the basket — the part that holds the pilot and passengers.
“When we went to lay the balloon over, he just lost his balance when we tipped the basket over and he hit his head,” Miller said.
Mindi Cantrell, the festival’s president, at the time, said Moran hit his head on one of the balloon’s burners.
Moran, of Cortland, was a 23-year veteran of the local hot air balloon festival. He died at University Hospitals Samaritan Medical Center, where he was transported by the Ashland Fire Department.
On Thursday, the first day of Ashland’s 30th hot air balloon festival, the weather was wrong for ballooning. Pilots decided around 6:30 to not fly because the Ashland sky was too windy at around 14 mph.
Ashland BalloonFest organizers typically designate Thursday as the event’s “media flight” day, meaning aeronauts take journalists up in the air in order to be able to write about the experience.
This year, it was my turn, along with Emma Davis, the Source’s newest addition from Report for America. We were both disappointed when we found out we’d have to wait a full year to get up in a balloon.
But around an hour-and-a-half later, the winds died down; the conditions were right for a 25-minute flight.
So Emma and I raced to the balloon, this one dubbed “Just a Dream,” piloted by Miller.
Being in a balloon is very much how you’d imagine it. You’re in a small basket. It does not have railings and a good portion of your body is exposed to the open sky.
I learned that pilots don’t have much control when it comes to steering. Actually, they have no control when it comes to steering — there’s no mechanism. The only control they have is done by manipulating the amount of heat they allow into the giant envelope. The more heat that is trapped by the balloon, the higher you fly.
That’s why wind is paramount when flying a balloon.
“The wind is everything,” Miller said.
When the three of us landed, in a hay field off State Route 511, I witnessed Miller giving his crew members hugs. The embraces could have been tear-filled, but I wasn’t sure.
When I caught up with Miller, he told me the flight — my first time in a hot air balloon — was his first flight at a ballooning event since earning his private piloting license in 2020.
He told me he was emotional after our landing. Unbeknownst to me, Miller flew above the very spot, where, three years earlier, he had landed “Tetris.”
Miller wishes Moran — his friend, mentor and teacher — could have looked up last week to witness his very first event as a pilot. Instead, he was looking down.
“I knew he was above, looking down, looking on me and he was proud of me,” Miller said. “It was a happy emotion. It was nice to actually feel that and like, know that he was proud of me.”
