A Walk Through Askin Village

Another neighbourhood walk, this time in autumn when cooler days make strolling more comfortable. This time, I ventured into Old South, aka Wortley Village, that heritage-filled neighbourhood surrounding London's old Normal School, now the regional headquarters of the YMCA. 

In about 1832 or 1833, Col. J. B. Askin came here from Vittoria, Norfolk County to become the new Clerk of the District Court. A prominent resident,  he lived on a large estate in what was then Westminster Township. He and his family were among the first white settlers in the area, so it's not surprising to learn it was historically known as Askin Village.  

Nowadays, stop on any tree-shaded street in this neighbourhood and you'll find yourself admiring an old church or heritage home, and probably drawn into an interesting store, gallery or pub. I parked on Elmwood Avenue, one of my favourite Old South thoroughfares, and found ecclesiastical and domestic architecture right before my eyes. 

I stopped near one of Old South's fine old mansions, "Woodlawn," built for Col. Francis B. Leys in 1877. Once surrounded by extensive grounds, Leys' former home is now connected to Elmwood Avenue Presbyterian Church, built in 1926. The church takes good care of  the old home, using it as office and meeting space.* 

 

Across the street from the church complex are some interesting homes, including this Queen Anne cottage with a charming verandah, gable trim, and stained glass in a front window.

And this charmer in white and black, next door, is another Queen Anne cottage built in the 1890s.

Farther west, I see some unusual windows in this attic. If you know the name of the ones on the right,  please let me know, as I don't think I've seen that formation elsewhere.

Here's a welcoming verandah with an unusual oval window:

Interesting brackets and trim:

The corner of Elmwood and Edward has some of the most remarkable homes in "the village," if not the city. Below, hiding behind one of the stately trees on the property, is the boyhood home of Canadian novelist, screenwriter, and poet Arthur Stringer (1874-1950). Built in the 1880s, the home has stone window headings, a two-storey bay window, arched windows, and a decorative brick string course. I seem to have arrived too late for a garden party.

Across the street, behind a picket fence, is an 1879 Victorian Gothic gem. Designed by the architectural firm of Craddock & Weekes, the house has a high-pitched cross gable roof, possibly the best bargeboards in the city, paired semi-circular-headed upper windows with a shutter each, and a gingerbread-covered verandah around three sides. Designated under the Ontario Heritage Act, this home's blue plaque is visible just to the left of the front door.

The third magnificent home at this intersection was built ca. 1894-5 for Robert D. Millar, Secretary Treasurer of the London Advertiser newspaper. Not even in Old South do most houses have an open porch at the top of a square tower from which one can survey the whole neighbourhood. This house is oriented towards the corner to appear welcoming from more than one direction. Best of all is the band shell verandah, likely added a few years after the house was built. 

Continuing north on Edward Street, I passed by the Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club. Yes, tucked in behind the houses at 17 1/2 Edward is this club dedicated to the quaint sport of lawn bowling. How appropriate for such an old-fashioned neighbourhood.

To the north, on the same side of the street, is a group of houses apparently built at the same time, judging by their similar size and style:

Here's a close-up of the one painted in my favourite colour scheme of blue and white. Note the fish-scale gable infill.

Peeking from behind the trees is No. 16 Edward, a cottage with a mansard roof, polychrome brickwork, and a magnificent double front door.  

I turned onto Bruce Street, named after the family name of the Earl of Elgin, Governor General of the Province of Canada 1847-1854. He's also, of course, the guy Elgin and Bruce counties are named after, as well as the intersection north of London called Elginfield, and numerous streets around the province. 

So many lovely homes on Bruce. Where does one begin? I'll just mention one. No. 91 has recently been restored with a 3,000 square foot extension built at the rear. The project, which won owners Charlie and Jodi Younger a London Heritage Award in 2024,** shows that a home can be modernized to 21st-century standards while keeping its original facade. 

Next, I turned onto Teresa Street. This and nearby Cynthia Street are believed to have been named after Col. Askin's daughters. I passed by Wesley Knox United Church at 91 Askin Street, built in 1880 as Askin Street Methodist. This church had a spire until it was struck by lightning in 1918. The current church name resulted from the union of Wesley and Knox United Churches in 1972.***

Across the street to the west is a magnificent home with beautiful blue and cream trim:

Even the flower baskets match the verandah.

Across the street to the north of the church is this attractive example of terrace housing. Each unit has a bay window, the end ones having an extra bay window in the end walls. Beautiful dichromatic brick. Gotta love those blue doors. 

A neat and traditional-looking white brick on Teresa Street. Note the trim in the gable and the iron work above the front porch.

An adorable pale yellow cottage with a quaint porch. Note ACO London's historical house sign.

Nearby on Byron Avenue is another simple Ontario cottage with a side-hall plan and ornate front door:

Also on Byron is the Thomas Westcott House, built in 1881. Note the brackets, bay window, and round arched window on the west wall.

Nos. 99-101 Byron Avenue is a well-proportioned double house, likely from a fairly early period.

Lurking behind this vegetation is Wortley Cottage, built by Samuel Sexton Pomroy in 1851. Originally a one-storey frame building, it was converted to a two-storey structure in the 1870s. Before trees and other buildings were built in front, the owners must have had a magnificent view of the Thames River. 

A nearby sidewalk on Wortley Road:

In Old South, even a child's playhouse needs to have a heritage look:

Walking south on Wortley, I notice the houses on the west side:

On the east side are cottages like this well-preserved example with a round window in the gable:

I also see some infill. Is this the narrowest (new) house in London? It certainly shows what can be done with a narrow lot.

The building below recently featured a condo for sale at the breathtaking price of $2,597,000. The pictures look charming, but I'm afraid I couldn't snap it up. 

Below is the new Black Walnut, looking much like the earlier building destroyed by arson in 2023. The finished building will fit nicely into the old-time ambiance of Wortley Village. 

Stopped for a pint and snack at Sweet Onion Bistro, southwest corner of Wortley Road and Askin Street. This building started out as a home and later became a Supertest service station. Love the barge boards, finials, and pendants painted a bold red. 

Behind, on Askin Street, is St. James Westminster, an Anglican Church designed by the London architectural firm Robinson and Tracey in the Gothic style. 

Of interest is the church's memorial garden:

Back on Bruce Street, east of Wortley, is the former Fire Station No. 3, built of polychrome brick with round-arched paired windows. The tower, now sporting a satellite dish, was used to hang the fire hose for drying. 

Nearby Marley Place is traditionally one of my favourite streets in London, having much historic and architectural interest. Unfortunately, it's not looking as good as it used to. No. 10, for example, is a large, stately Italianate structure built ca. 1866, but it's now looking run-down. There are plans to build about eight stacked townhomes on this property, and the house itself will be renovated into rental units. See here. While this is considered a success story for heritage, I'm reserving judgement until I see the finished project. Too often, "rescued" buildings are too changed for my taste. 

15 1/2 Marley is said to be the narrowest house in London, unless 104 Wortley above is even narrower. While this dollhouse cottage is certainly narrow, it extends a long way back, so that it's not all that small. I'm disappointed to see a newer metal roof, looking out of place next to the adorable trim on the porch, bay window, and gable.

A nearby mansion is under repair. Hopefully, the renovations will be appropriate.

Some pseudo-Victorian infill, appropriate for the neighbourhood. I'm fine with this, unless a genuine oldie was torn down to build it. 

Across the street is the William Moore House at 16 Marley Place. Love the gables, barge boards, bay windows with cresting, and verandah fretwork. Not to mention the attractive colour scheme. So well done!

Nearby is the magnificent Normal School, built in 1899 in the Richardsonian Romanesque style. 

Postcard view of the Normal School ca. 1905. (Warwick Bros. & Rutter, Toronto) Author's collection.

Addition at the rear may be disliked by some purists, but I have no problem with glass additions, so long as the main building isn't spoiled. It isn't.  

Houses around "the Green" were often owned by teachers at the Normal School. Dr. John Dearness, for example,  lived at No. 30 below:

One of my favourite homes anywhere is No. 44 Marley Place, possibly built as early as 1865 in frame but later stuccoed. The doorway is a masterpiece. 

Now I'm back on Elmwood. But before I leave, I'm going to stroll east towards Ridout and peek at another one of my favourite houses, no. 194. I can't resist admiring any home with a tower. But there's also a massive round-arched entrance porch and an oriel with shingle facing. Another sturdy-looking Romanesque Revival.

Across the street is an Italianate built by local architect George F. Durand. Most will note the ornate trim in the gable, but the keystones and decorative brick below the eaves are also worth notice. Note the blue heritage plaque.

I'll end with 198 Elmwood, built in the 1850s and originally facing Ridout Street. In 1905, when it was still frame, it was turned to face Elmwood. What a stately entrance. Note another heritage designation.

On my way back to my vehicle, I passed this ... and I have to say that I like the style, but don't like it in Old South. 

And, of course, there's this, which is inevitable, everywhere. What a pity.

* If you find church history dry-as-dust, skip this footnote. Otherwise, you may be interested in the fact that Col. Leys (ca. 1838-1905) was instrumental in convincing London Presbyterians to establish a mission church in south London. In the 1880s, Presbyterians chose a site at the corner of Wortley Road and Bruce Street where Knox Church was built. When Knox chose to join the United Church of Canada in 1925, some members of the congregation wished to remain Presbyterian and broke away. Hence, the existence of Elmwood Presbyterian. As for Woodlawn, it was still a private home in 1925, having being purchased by Frank Sloan at some point. The Elmwood congregation bought the estate from Sloan. Details here.

** The 17th Annual London Heritage Awards were held at Museum London, April 11, 2024, presented by ACO London and Heritage London Foundation. The Youngers won a Restoration Project award. 

*** More church history here. Originally, this site had a frame church facing Teresa Street. Dedicated in 1875, its name was New Brighton Methodist, "New Brighton" being yet another name for the expanding suburb south of London. As the congregation grew, it became necessary to build a larger structure, so, in 1881, the present church was completed facing Askin Street and renamed Askin Street Methodist. The frame church was used as a Sunday School. 

Meanwhile, in 1882, Presbyterian families in South London expressed a need for religious services in the area. In 1883, funds were raised and a site was chosen on the corner of Wortley Road and Bruce Street. In September 1884, a dedication service was held for Knox Presbyterian Church. 

With church union in 1925, Askin Street Methodist was renamed Wesley United, and Knox Presbyterian was renamed Knox United. In 1972, Knox United and Wesley United amalgamated to form one church named Wesley-Knox United. More here.

The Ghost of Colborne Street

When I was a kid, I was into ghosts. 

It all started when I read "Some Canadian Ghosts" by Sheila Hervey. The author wrote about ghosts all over Canada, from ghost ships off the coast of New Brunswick to haunted houses in Vancouver. But growing up in Ontario, I was more intrigued by the ghosts in my own province.

Years later, when I moved to London, I remembered that one of the ghosts was said to be here in a house on Colborne Street. Unfortunately, the book didn't say exactly where on Colborne Street, so I couldn't identify it.

Flash forward to the 21st century. Now I'm living on Colborne Street, and once again I remembered I shared the street with a ghost. Back I went to Ms. Hervey's book.

The ghost, it says, haunts a large and comfortable three-storey house on Colborne Street. The spirit's name is Beatrice Simms, "a religious spinster who died in 1967." Beatrice loved her home and wanted to live there forever; unfortunately, she was forced to sell it in 1943 when she couldn't afford to maintain it. But she vowed to her friends that she would one day return to her beloved home. It appears that's exactly what she did after she died in Toronto during the Centennial year.

At that time, the home belonged to a family Hervey calls Saunders (she changed the name). At first, the haunting was mild. Doors creaked, footsteps echoed throughout the house, disembodied voices called from empty rooms. 

Then the haunting became more serious. The family dog became terrified when he looked at the stairs and refused to respond when called. One Halloween night, the dog ran away, never to be seen again. Next, the family budgie and two goldfish died. Babysitters were too scared to stay. Neighbours were told to "Come right on in," even though the family didn't invite them, hadn't even heard a knock.

Finally, someone told the family about the late Beatrice Simms and her desire to return. Upon searching, the Saunders family found some of Beatrice's books and papers in the attic. After that, they had a friendlier attitude to whoever - or whatever - was in their house. 

The haunting stopped suddenly in February 1968. 

Hervey's main reference, listed at the back of her book, was a London Free Press article written by reporter Joe McClelland published on June 21, 1969. Knowing the London Room librarians used to keep clipping files, I emailed LPL to ask for a copy of McClelland's article. The library found it and sent it to me via email. Joe's article repeated the story of Beatrice, who so loved her family home that she vowed to return to it after she died.  The article also gave the real names of the couple who owned the haunted house - Kenneth and Eleanor Davis. Their address was at 921 Colborne Street, just a few lots to the south of me on the opposite side. 

Digging online, I found a 1969 London city directory that confirmed that the young couple at that address were Kenneth and Eleanor Davis. Ken was an accountant. 

Then I decided to look for a grave marker for Beatrice on Find A Grave, and that's where I hit pay dirt. Beatrice Lindley Sims was born in 1890 but actually died on July 25, 1962, not 1967 as sources claimed. Hmm. Seems it took her spirit a while to find its way back to Colborne Street. 

And Beatrice, according to articles posted on Find A Grave, was an accomplished Christian woman. The phrase "religious spinster" doesn't really do her justice. Beatrice became a nurse and missionary in Africa in about 1919. Upon returning home, she joined the Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada and began a teaching ministry across the country. She taught at Ontario Bible College in Toronto, lectured in various churches, and worked as a nurse here in London. She died of a heart attack and is buried in an unmarked grave in Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, Toronto. 

Update - October 31, 6:35 pm:

Since posting the above, I've received more facts from readers:

Beatrice grew up with her family in Toronto, but the Sims family moved to London in the 1920s. Her father, Frederick Sims (note spelling difference), died in 1930, aged 71, at 477 Colborne Street. The Sims family was renting, not owning, the house. Afterward, the widowed Mrs. Sims, Beatrice, and her siblings moved to an apartment. They apparently never lived at 921 Colborne. 

Hmm. 

There are questions here I can't answer:

1. Why did McClelland think Beatrice had died in 1967, not 1962? Is this just a Free Press typo?

2. Why did he think she lived at 921 Colborne? 

3. If Beatrice didn't live at 921, did Ken and Eleanor really find her belongings in their attic?

4. Which house is she haunting? 

Last week I marched down the street and knocked on the door of no. 921. When the owner answered, I asked him if his house was haunted. Yes, he replied. His son had seen the ghosts, but they were friendly.

"Ghosts." Oh dear. Beatrice brought a friend. And to the wrong house, apparently. 

921 Colborne, where Beatrice didn't live.

477 Colborne, where she apparently did. Can ghosts become lost?

Thanks to Eleanor Rath for updates. 

Tombstone Tourism: The Third Annual Middlesex Centre Archives Cemetery Tour

Yes, it's that wonderful time of year again, when graveyard geeks like myself take an official bus tour to local cemeteries. I say "official" because some of us indulge in our own personal cemetery tours year-round (except during the depths of winter when the stones are covered in snow). The third annual Middlesex Centre Archives Cemetery Tour, held on October 4, featured three cemeteries, one in each of the historic townships (Delaware, Lobo, and London) that make up today's Middlesex Centre. For highlights from last year's tour, see here.

Creepy, you say? Don't be a cemetery cynic. Burial grounds are interesting indeed! 

Our tour started in Oakland Cemetery, located in the village of Delaware on Millcreek Lane. This cemetery was founded when Christ Church Cemetery, also in Delaware, became full in the 1880s. The church opened what was first known as the "New Cemetery" in the northeast part of the village. Later, it was renamed Oakland, and today, it's operated by the Diocese of Huron.

I should mention that tour organizers, including our guide, Krista, outdid themselves in providing information about persons buried at each of the sites.  At Oakland, archives volunteer Sid Prior placed biographical signs on various graves, just as he did last year when the group visited Christ Church Cemetery. This had the effect of bringing the dead to life - figuratively, anyway - by letting us know who they were and what they did. No longer were they just names on monuments. 

An example of Sid's research is below, at the grave of James A. Hughson, M.D., his wife, Fanny, and daughter, Arletta:

A close-up of the sign placed beside the grave describes Dr. H.'s early days on a local farm, his medical education at U. of T., career in Buffalo, meeting Fanny on a house call to her mother, the birth of Arletta in South Dakota, return to Delaware, purchase of an estate in Buffalo, and eventual death at Homewood Sanitarium in Guelph. 

A close-up of an interesting advertisement from Buffalo indicates the good doctor could cure many afflictions!

Another bio, for an English emigrant with the distinguished name of Albion Parfitt. ("Albion" is a poetic term for England.)

Mr. Parfitt's career was more local, since he was a merchant in Delaware. His sign is below, decorated with a few morning dewdrops:

The Parfitts were fond of a Latin phrase. I love the sound of Latin myself so I was interested in a nearby monument to Charles Parfitt that reads Beati Mundo Corde ("Blessed are the pure in heart" from the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:8.)

For Charles' wife Caroline, Terar Dum Prosim ("May I be consumed in service.")

Also of interest are monuments to former soldiers, such as William Richard Lowthian (1896-1924), son of Richard V. Lowthian and Edith Brown. William served in the 15th Battalion of the C.E.F. in World War I but died of tuberculosis at Queen Alexandra Sanatorium. His monument reads Pro Patria Mortus est ("He died for freedom and honour"). Perhaps he first became ill in Europe.

Below is a monument to Francis E. Jickels, a member of the Woodmen of the World, whose insignia is on his grave marker. The Woodmen of the World was a fraternal benefit society founded in 1890, which provided insurance and support to its members, including life insurance and a tombstone for those deceased. Note the organization's own Latin motto, Dum Tacet Clamet ("Though silent, he speaks"). Mr. Jickels belonged to Lambeth Camp. No. 102, the word "camp" being reminiscent of a woodmen's lumber camp.

A log or tree stump, sometimes known as a "treestone," usually signifies a life cut short, as in the case of Samuel George Winterbottom, who died in 1912, aged 17. According to a record in ancestry.ca, he died of appendicitis. 

A couple of sweet "hearts" mark the graves of Glen and Vera Prior. How romantic!

Members of the Masonic Lodge also have their insignia on their grave markers, as in the example below. I think the bow next to Verna's name means she was a member of the Order of the Eastern Star, an association aligned with Freemasonry. 

The earliest grave in the "New Cemetery" is that of Marianne Osborne Girdlestone (1836-88). She was the wife of  Charles Fox, who is buried nearby.

Next the tour visited Old Campbell Cemetery on Oxbow Drive near Komoka, in the former Lobo Township. First established in 1837 on the farm of John Campbell, Sr., the cemetery was expanded twice, once in 1919 and again in 1968. And, yes, there is a "new" Campbell Cemetery nearby.

Below is the grave of John Campbell, Sr., who arrived in Lobo in 1825 and died here in 1837. Originally from Inverary, Argyleshire, Scotland, Campbell bought 300 acres of "wild land" just east of Komoka from a man named Secord who lived in London. Campbell's was the first burial here, and, while his stone is eroded, it's still legible:

The monument that most stands out here is this "Guardian Angel" in memory of a mother and daughter. Angels can symbolize so much: spiritual guidance, protection, and grief. The outstretched hand may signify the ascent to heaven, the bowed head sorrow, and the wings flight. 

An orb or sphere, such as the one below, may represent eternity, as well as the cyclical nature of life and death: 

So aggravating when a grave marker becomes obstructed by nature - in this case, an overgrown tree. This photo is the best I could do for the Rev. Richard Marshall and his wife, Susan. Marshall, a Baptist minister, came from England in 1885; his wife came in 1886. Their grey sandstone altar-type grave should be uncovered by family, a Baptist congregation, or the "Friends of Old Campbell Cemetery," although the latter organization is a product of my imagination.

Stephen Moore, Earl of Mount Cashell, was an unusual member of the aristocracy in that he migrated to the wilds of Upper Canada. Graduating from Trinity College, Cambridge, with an MA in 1812, he later became a Fellow of the Royal Society. While in Switzerland, he met his wife, Anna Marie Wyse. In 1833 they came to Lobo with their large brood of children. Through an agent, the Earl bought a 1,000 acre estate including Thames-front property. They lived in a large house known as the "castle," which would also have housed family servants. The name of the nearby village of Kilworth came from the family title of Lord Kilworth, the eldest son, who was only eight when the family arrived. The monument below is to Jane, wife of the Earl's third son, Hon. George Francis Moore.

The tour stopped for lunch at Kilworth United Church. No, the church hasn't been converted into a gourmet restaurant; it's still a church. But members of the church did provide tea and coffee while we ate bagged lunches in the church hall. Then they gave us a talk about the church's history. 

View of Kilworth United Church on a greeting card. Photo by Ron Watson.

Built in 1850, Kilworth is one of the oldest churches - if not buildings - in the area. Founded as an Episcopal Methodist Church, it became part of the United Church in 1925. You may have passed by this structure on Oxford St. W., just west of Byron, many times without noticing it, since it's almost hidden from the road by numerous trees. The building is constructed of stone walls two feet thick. Many are hand-hewn rocks from the nearby Wishing Well spring. Traditionally, those who looked closely would find fossils in the rocks, although erosion has made these more difficult to find. 

The building has many updates, especially to its heat and lighting, but its sanctuary is still the plain, simple interior the Methodist settlers would have preferred:

The final cemetery on the tour was Littlewood Cemetery on Twelve Mile Road north of Ilderton in the former London Township. Here, historian Glenn Scarborough gave us an overview of the site's history. 

As with many other cemeteries, there was once a church nearby. A Wesleyan Methodist congregation was established in the area in 1847, and a brick church was built nearby on the farm of John Littlewood, who arrived in the area in 1828. This church was replaced in 1875 by a larger brick structure that was eventually moved to Mill Street in Ilderton in 1892, and burned in 1910. Today, the cemetery is in the care of Ilderton United Church. 

In the 1940s, a marble triangle with the name of the 1875 church was found in the Scarborough family blacksmith shop. This cairn with a bronze plaque was erected in 1988 to tell the story of the Littlewood churches and cemetery, and the triangle was added to the upper part of the cairn. If you notice that it's not quite a "triangle," that's because, according to Glenn, the piece broke when it was being moved, and the other bottom corner was sliced off to make it symmetrical. 

In 1965, a half-acre was purchased to expand this cemetery. It remains open for burials, and some of the graves are quite recent. I, of course, am most interested in the pioneers.

Take John Littlewood, for example. Born in 1775 in Moffat, Scotland, as one of 13 children, he reportedly left home at an early age and ran away to join the navy. And not just any ship either. He apparently served on the HMS Victory under Lord Nelson. What stories he must have had about the old days and the great commander! He didn't share them with his descendants, however, because he never married. Instead, he took an interest in developing the local community, which is no doubt why he donated land for a Wesleyan church and parsonage. (The latter building was eventually moved to Birr.) Littlewood lived to the extraordinary age of 104. According to Glenn, this was because he was a bachelor, a suggestion we ladies pooh-poohed. Littlewood must have been strong to survive such an adventurous, hard life. 

The first burial here is that of John Armstrong, also born in the eighteenth century. He and his wife, Rebekah Cotnem (1786-1856), came to Upper Canada from the Lake Champlain district of New York State. This broken monument appears to be for John:

But a newer one has been placed nearby:

In 1930, when Fletcher Charlton died, his heirs decided to donate his estate to the cemetery. The funds allowed a wrought iron fence to be built across the front with the gate posts below:

Two young men who died in World War II are commemorated on their parents' grave markers at Littlewood. Flying Officer John Robert Paisley went missing over the North Sea on May 17, 1942, and was later presumed dead. Born in Ilderton, "Jack" attended London's Central Collegiate and Normal School, and taught school back in Ilderton and up at Thedford before joining up in July 1940. He also played hockey for the Ilderton village hockey team. He is memorialized at Runnymede Memorial, UK.

Also, Sgt. AG John Lewis Sparling (1923-1943), who first attempted to join the Air Force in 1940 but was declined, being underage. He finally enlisted at London in November 1941, just after his 18th birthday. On a night mission on January 21-22, 1943, he left on a mine-laying mission with four other officers. They left from the coast of the Netherlands near the Zuider Zee in a Wellington bomber and never returned. Also remembered at Runnymede. Note that his parents had already suffered a previous disaster in the death of another son, Robert, who drowned while swimming in the Thames.

Most of the information above comes from the day's excellent tour guides and the handouts they gave out. Those looking for further information are recommended to look at ancestry.ca and the following publications:

Gibb, Alice, ed. London Township: A Rich Heritage 1796-1997. London Township History Book Committee, 2001.

Grainger, Jennifer, ed. Delaware and Westminster Townships: Honouring Our Roots. Delaware/ Westminster History Book Committee, 2006.

The Heritage of Lobo 1820-1990. Lobo Township Heritage Group, 1990.