Sticking to Our Guns

On a frosty morning in December, I was marching through downtown Plymouth thinking about what traditions teach us.

I’m fortunate to be a member of an old social club in Plymouth that commemorates Forefather’s Day with a ceremony that stretches back hundreds of years – reading out a proclamation honoring those that came before us and firing our cannon three times.

For those unprepared for this tradition, the blasts that pierce the cold December morning can be quite the surprise. There’s a certain impish delight in watching lights flicker on in the houses surrounding Plymouth Bay as residents scramble to determine the source of the explosions. Thankfully, our parade is accompanied by a police escort, so when curious neighbors peer out their windows, they see the reassuring sight of flashing blue lights. The message: everything is under control.

But don’t let the festive nature of our tradition fool you; we take the responsibility of cannon firing very seriously. In fact, safety is our top priority, and we prepare meticulously for this event. On the Friday after Thanksgiving, affectionately known among our group as “Black Powder Friday,” we gather to practice firing the cannon on a member’s spacious property. This dry run ensures everyone knows their role, safety protocols are followed, and any potential issues are addressed in advance.

Each member of the crew has the authority to call “cease fire!” if something doesn’t look right. We shout reminders to one another (ear protection makes this necessary), use open hands when handling tools, and always have a stopwatch on hand to time critical steps. These precautions ensure that an activity meant to honor history doesn’t inadvertently make history for the wrong reasons.

This past Black Powder Friday, we had ample opportunity to put our safety training into practice. Several times, our squib charge—a small device used to ignite the cannon—went “fizzle” instead of “kaboom.” Each misfire was met with a loud “Misfire!” call, followed by a three-minute timer to allow any lingering embers to settle or ignite. While these delays were frustrating for a group eager to hear the roar of the cannon, they reinforced the importance of patience and procedure.

We used the time to review our methods, refine the way we roll charges to ensure better seating against the breach, and discuss improvements in bore cleaning techniques. These lessons were not just about firing a cannon; they were about continuous improvement and teamwork—principles that resonate in every aspect of life, especially in business.

And that brings me to a broader point before I bore you with the details (pun intendend). Whether it’s firing a historical cannon or securing a client’s IT network, the fundamentals of preparation, communication, and safety remain the same. Just as our club prioritizes safety over spectacle, businesses must prioritize process over shortcuts. This commitment to doing things the right way—even when it’s tedious or time-consuming—is what builds trust and long-term success.

So, as we prepare for another Forefathers’ Day, I’ll be reflecting on the lessons learned from our Black Powder Friday mishaps. And I’d love to hear from you: What traditions or practices in your life or business have taught you unexpected lessons?

Will MacFee is the CEO of Systems Support in Marshfield, MA.