Small towns throughout Alberta carry stories in their streets—some bustling with new life, others holding the quiet echo of what once was. On recent travels, I’ve found myself drawn to these places—Meeting Creek, Wayne, Big Valley, and now St. Michael. Each has its own story of community, change, and resilience. Through their histories, and sometimes through my own family’s memories, I’m reminded how place and people are connected across time.

Visiting St. Michael

Visiting the historic train station at Meeting Creek earlier this summer got me thinking about the train station in St. Michael—and a black-and-white photo of my mom standing on its platform about 62 years ago. At the time, she lived there with her parents, who were managing the CO-OP store in town. My older cousin recalls that they stayed in a house brought into town and set on blocks for a temporary residence. According to the Pride in Progress: Chipman, St. Michael, Edna/Star and Districts history book, my grandparents ran the St. Michael CO-OP from 1961 to 1964, before moving on.

The last time I had been to St. Michael, I was a little girl myself. We went on a family road trip, likely because my mother wanted to revisit a place she once called home. I don’t remember much about that visit, except for feeling that the car ride was very long.

Today, I made the trip back. St. Michael is a hamlet located about 7 km off Highway 45 in Lamont County. My goal was to see if the old train station was still there. When I arrived, the town was busy. A funeral at the local complex had just wrapped up, so many people were driving through the small community, and residents were out in their yards cutting grass.

A Chance Encounter with Local History

It happened to be my lucky day. I met an elderly gentleman leaving the funeral and asked if he was from the town. I was hoping he would be able to point out where the CO-OP store once stood. He smiled and asked if I was looking for a history lesson. He was visibly happy I had stopped him—he later told me he was 84 years old, and it was clear he knew many things about the area.

He told me the CO-OP store used to be across from the old hotel on Main Street, but the building was long gone. When I asked about the train station, he explained that it had been put up for public sale several years ago, purchased, and moved about five miles out of town, where it was repurposed into a home.

The Train Station

To my surprise, he generously offered to lead me to the new location, as it was on his way home anyway. I happily accepted. The old train station can be seen from the gravel road and is now beautifully redone and well cared for—a piece of history preserved in a new form.

The Church

Back in town, St. Michael’s namesake, the stately Catholic church, towers above the community. It’s a sight to behold. The gentleman told me that the small replica church at the back of the graveyard is open to the public for quiet prayer, and visitors can sign the guest book.

I took the short walk across the beautifully kept grounds to look inside the building. As promised, it was lovely in there—peaceful and full of quiet reverence. I signed the guest book and noticed that many of the surnames in the St. Michael graveyard were the same as those of people from my own hometown. It struck me that this was no coincidence, but rather a reflection of Alberta’s Ukrainian settler history, which shaped so many communities across the province.

Remembering the Past

My new friend also painted a picture of the town’s past. At one time, there were six grain elevators in St. Michael and five in the nearby community of Wostok, just down the tracks. Both were once bustling agricultural hubs. Today, there are no elevators left—some were dismantled, others lost to fire. Much like Wostok, there are no small businesses operating in St. Michael anymore.

After thanking him for the tour and the stories, I made my way toward home. On the way, we stopped at Wostok Lake so that my puppy travelling partner could stretch his legs along the path that now follows the route where the railway once ran—its tracks long removed, but its history still very much alive in the memories of those who knew it.

Though the elderly gentleman didn’t recognize the names of my grandparents, even though his wife had once worked at the CO-OP store, he explained that he moved to St. Michael in 1967—that was a few years after after my family had already moved on. My mom passed away in May 2024, a year before this visit, which made walking these streets and hearing stories from someone who had witnessed the town’s history all the more meaningful.

Like Big Valley, which I wrote about earlier, St. Michael has seen many changes over time. Once a busy agricultural service hub, it’s now home to just 39 residents, according to Wikipedia. Yet even with its small population, the town holds echoes of the past—buildings that still stand, stories that still circulate, and connections that still matter. Standing there in St. Michael, walking in places tied to my mother’s childhood, I was reminded of a lyric from Luke Bryan’s song Dirt Road Diary:

“If you want to know the real me, just turn the page in my dirt road diary.”

This visit felt like turning a page in my own family’s diary—one written in the weathered buildings and memories of a small Alberta town. The weight of its changes made palpable because of the stories from a local gentleman who experienced them firsthand, but also a quiet connection to both St. Michael’s history and my own family’s story.

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What stories live in the places you call home? Have you revisited towns or sites tied to your family’s past? I’d love to hear your reflections and memories—please share them in the comments below.

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Be well!