My first visit to what became known as St Marie came in 1984 when local Glasgow residents associated with the Valley county museum took me to the closed Glasgow Air Force Base, about 15 miles north of town. From the late 1950s to the 1970s, the base was an important cog in the Cold War military capabilities of the United States when huge B-52 bombers ruled the sky. Then suddenly it was not so important and the Air Force left.

The locals in 1984 spoke of grand plans, of how the Air Force was in the process of selling the base, building by building. That part was true. They gave me a booklet that explained the past purpose of each building and the value of each building at that time.

In 1984 it seemed unlikely to me that a new use could be found because the base was so big—its population was once 50% of the entire county—and it was so isolated. If the Air Force didn’t have a use for it, who would?

When I returned in 1988, the transformation of the base into civilian control was underway. Locals excitedly informed me of the new comprehensive plan to turn the base into a retirement community named St Marie, targeting veterans. The old support facilities would be humming once again and a golf course would be central to everything.

I was urged to invest now—get one of the officers homes, or half of a duplex for remarkably little—$27,500 for a 1,500 sq ft unit.

Obviously I passed on the opportunity, as did so many others who visited the community in the making over the next years. But enough said yes to give St Marie a fighting chance for a future. The promise didn’t last long, as several recent research articles detail. When I next visited Glasgow 25 years later in 2013, the folks at the museum didn’t urge me to buy—they told me to go and see what was left.

Rot, decay, mold were everywhere—but just like so many Montana ghost towns there remained a core group of residents who kept their homes well and expressed pride in what had been accomplished.

While key community buildings such as the chapel and post office/community center were closed, the flags were still flying proudly at the town hall. Officials spoke of a turnaround in the making.

I returned in the fall of 2025–more than 40 years after my first visit—to find hopes mostly extinguished. The deterioration of the chapel, community center, and schools was shocking—little hope there.

There were no flags flying at the town hall but everywhere it seemed there were new signs and barriers of the Montana Aviation Research Co. This private company was now using the runaways and had converted several buildings for employees’ use.

The population had cratered since 2013 but of those approximately 300 people who still called St Marie home, you have to admire their commitment to the place. Numerous homes were well maintained even with the signs of abandonment everywhere.

What will be left when I next visit this modern-day ghost town of the northern plains?