Now tell me, what do bagpipes, St. Patrick’s Day, and leadership have to do with each other? Yes, the pipers march in step. Yes, there is a story of St. Patrick chasing the snakes out of Ireland and some say the pipes could do that. And yes, there’s been a quantity of talk for the past months and years about leadership. Some might believe they overlap.
But there is far, far more in this image of the celebration observed by this month’s guest author, Stephen Forrest. Pushing beyond the generalities so often thrown in the pot of heritage, culture, and yes, leadership, he describes in the clearest of terms the spot where heritage and leadership met in Helena, MT, on March 17, 2026.
Read on:
“Yesterday, at the St. Patrick’s Day celebration at the Montana State Capitol, I watched a masterclass in leadership disguised as a holiday party.
The Pipes and Drums of the Black Devils marched in. If you’ve never heard bagpipes fill a capitol rotunda, a space that rarely cooperates with live music, I’m not sure I can do it justice. The sound didn’t echo so much as inhabit the room.
They were playing Scotland the Brave. At an Irish event. It didn’t matter. Not even a little.
Because the Black Devils aren’t just a pipe band. They’re the official pipe band of the First Special Service Force, the legendary WWII unit that trained in Helena. They wear the FSSF tartan. They’ve been part of the St. Patrick’s Day celebration for years. They are, in the fullest sense, a Montana institution representing something wider than any single flag or anthem. Celtic heritage. Montana heritage. The particular way this state honors its history and its people.
Scotland the Brave in an Irish ceremony, played by a band named for an American WWII unit, in the capital of a landlocked western state. It was exactly right.
And Patrick Flaherty, state Vice President of the “Ancient Order Of Hibernians” and MC for the event, understood that instinctively. He didn’t fuss over the details. He held the room with warmth and wit, and when it came time for the proclamations — with Governor Greg Gianforte standing right there ready to present — Patrick leaned into the mic and said something to the effect of: “This next is important, but no one really cares about this part.”
The room laughed. The proclamations were delivered with full dignity. The moment landed exactly as it should.
C.S. Lewis wrote that humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less. Patrick didn’t shrink from the room. He just made the room bigger than himself.
That’s the thing about good leadership and good teaching: it takes the work seriously. It just doesn’t take itself seriously. It knows which details are load-bearing and which ones can breathe. It knows that the song doesn’t have to be perfect if the spirit is true.
I was there as an Irish dance father, watching my son perform alongside his group. The older dancers showed up, as they always do, with quiet professionalism and generous encouragement for the younger ones, finding their footing.
The bagpipes filled the rotunda. The proclamations were read. The Irish Dance occurred. The celebration was full, warm, and good.
And somewhere in all of it: a small reminder that the gravitas of a moment doesn’t require the gravitas of the person. That knowing what actually matters and letting the rest breathe might be the most underrated leadership skill there is.”
Stephen Forrest describes himself as a Passionate Generalist exploring alignment, legacy and transformation; and a consultant and a storyteller.
