BATON ROUGE, La. (AP) — Leslie Harris has missed most milestones in his daughter’s life while serving a decades-long sentence in Louisiana for armed robbery and is unlikely to get out before her prom, her graduation and maybe even her wedding.

But for one night at Louisiana’s largest maximum-security prison, Harris made his own moment with his 17-year-old daughter while donning a custom tux and clutching a bouquet of roses: reuniting at the prison’s first father-daughter dance, where they embraced to Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” at a pink-heavy party this month that was widely shared on social media.

“Seeing her in a dress, crying and running to me just broke me down,” said Harris, who has nine years left on his sentence, in a phone interview from the Louisiana State Penitentiary. “It made me think of all the years I missed out on in her life.”

The lockup is the latest in the U.S. to hold a daddy-daughter dance, including one in Washington D.C. that was featured in the Netflix documentary “Daughters” last year. In Louisiana, prison officials say the dance could become another tradition at the rural lockup in Angola, which every October hosts the country’s last remaining prison rodeo. It has more than 6,300 prisoners, including dozens of people on death row, and is on the same grounds where a notorious lockup was converted into an immigration detention facility in September.

Assistant Warden Anne-Marie Easley said she hoped the dance would bring a sense of hope that can be elusive in a prison where many are serving decades-long or life sentences. For some men, it was a chance to reunite with their daughters for the first time in months or even years — an opportunity to rebuild relationships and heal wounds. For others, it meant a night where they wouldn’t be seen as an inmate but rather a dad.

The prison picked nearly 30 inmates to participate due to good behavior, among other factors. Videos posted from the event showed fathers in tuxedos — complete with pink boutonnieres — breaking down in tears as their daughters ran up to them in sparkly dresses, shrieking with excitement. They reunited in the middle of a pink carpet overlayed with petals, with breezy drapes hanging overhead. A dance space was setup in the prison’s Bible college.

The dance was put on by God Behind Bars, which hosts other reunification events and religious services in prisons nationwide. In videos the group posted before the dance, some prisoners said they wanted to apologize for all the years they missed. Others called the dance the most important prison visit of their lives.

The night included the men surprising their daughters with a line dance after weeks of practice. For Harris, the best part was when he and his daughter slow danced to ‘Butterfly Kisses,’ a song about a dad’s unconditional love for his daughter.

In that moment, Harris said memories rushed back of life before prison, when his daughter was just 2 years old. How she would sleep on his chest, play with his hair and how he would buy her little dresses. Before the night was over, he gave her a Bible with passages he highlighted.

“That’s really the heart of it at the end of the day,” said Jake Bodine, founder of God Behind Bars. “Show these individuals who is counting on them and once they realize the weight of that, they will hold themselves accountable for change.”