Places adamthehistorianghosthunter Wants to Go

On Hurricane Island, a former ghost town has been transformed into a forward-thinking research center.

All that remains of a gigantic earth-moving machine.

A single handprint, which, according to Ohio State University legend, cannot be scrubbed off.

Rows of 19th-century brick ovens used to process coal into coke form the center of a wooded park.

Marvel at this turn-of-the-century masterpiece that has been turned into a rather stately supermarket.

Abandoned since the 1950s, the streetcar lane beneath the heavily trafficked bridge lays empty and unused.

An old church full of restored Catholic statues is a makeup artist's labor of love.

A monument to a Native American leader who was known for never breaking a promise and met his end after signing a deal with white settlers.

Small, privately owned island divided between Michigan and Ohio with abandoned vacation homes and a derelict lighthouse.

Inside this wonderland of weird, visitors are treated to a collection ranging from skeletons to haunted artifacts.

Faces carved into the cliffs create an otherworldly walking trail.

The entrance to this sinisterly named tunnel hides behind a Tim Hortons.

Tracing a path of more than four miles around a frozen lake, this is the longest skate trail in the United States.

A small chapel celebrating the spiritual bond between dogs and humans.

Genesis of modern hydroelectric power.

Learn about the last river many crossed to find freedom from slavery in the United States.

Toxic waste disaster that founded the Superfund program.

A breathtaking array of ancient Pueblo structures and artifacts counterintuitively preserved by neglect.

This naturally-sourced hot spring is now home to a clothing-optional resort.

A sealed test tube said to hold Thomas Edison's dying breath was given to the inventor's friend and mentee, Henry Ford.

Former self-sufficient mental institution now a planned community.

The park is home to the United States's only still-operating Dutch windmill.

One of Detroit’s oldest blues clubs stands in defiance of the passage of time and the city’s shifting fortunes.

The Kalamazoo factory has 100 years of instrument-making, and one big wartime secret.