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June | 2026 Summer has once again graced us with her presence. While the lilacs that usually signal the start of a Montana summer never quite had their moment after the late freeze, everything else is beginning to bloom. With the changing season comes an evolving Magpie. We are deeply grateful for your support during the renovations, when we resembled a speakeasy even more than usual. It was dark, cramped, and at times you saw far more of our alley than anyone should. Yet you stepped through the rickety fence with a smile and the sense of community that continues to ground us. The Red Lodge Songwriter Festival arrived just hours after our remodel was completed, bringing with it another sign that summer had arrived. The quiet pace of locals strolling down Broadway gives way to visitors eager to make memories, and the town takes on a different rhythm. Friday evening was one of those perfect Montana nights—blue skies, sixty-five degrees, and a stillness in the air that felt almost foreign after an unusually windy spring. Our ballroom transformed into the festival's Main Stage, an honor for Mike and me. One of the things that first drew us to this building was the possibility of music filling its old brick walls and bringing people together. Throughout the weekend, locals and visitors flowed up and down the stairs, moving from venue to venue in search of the next inspiring song. Upstairs, more than 200 people packed into folding chairs, captivated by the stories, humor, and hard-earned wisdom of the songwriters, the red velvet rope draped to show full capacity. The room felt alive. Downstairs, where I logged nearly nine miles within our brick walls, we experienced one of those evenings that reminds us why we do this. There were moments when we wished for more tables and a few extra hands to accommodate everyone who walked through the door, but the atmosphere never shifted from gratitude. Familiar faces mixed with first-time visitors. People were patient, kind, and genuinely happy to be here. As the evening wound down and the blue velvet chairs began to empty, a guest from one of the larger parties stopped to chat. Relatively new Magpie patrons, joining us for the first time on the Stroll this year, they told us they felt less like customers and more like friends sitting in our living room. Mike and I exchanged smiles and a knowing look. That simple comment felt like a full-circle moment. When we started Magpie, our hope was never simply to create a place for food and drinks. We wanted to create a space where people felt welcomed into a community—where gathering mattered as much as what was on the table. Our front door is still awaiting its new signage, but the heart of Magpie has never been dictated by what is written on the glass. If there is one thing we hope people know, it is this: everyone is welcome at the Magpie table. As Juneteenth and Pride share this month of June, that feels especially important to say out loud. Thank you to everyone who has pulled up a chair, shared a meal, lingered over a cocktail, listened to a song, and helped make this place what it is. xo,
Kat
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