Once part of a dam servicing an early 19th century grist mill, the tucked-way falls are a tricky-to-find urban oasis.

This grove was planted more than a century ago by the War Mothers of World War I.

Crammed into a Baltimore row house is an oddities shop that sells everything from skulls to dead insects.

This lovely tree was a thank you gift from the man known as "Public Enemy No.1."

This free, take-a-book shop seems like a trick but isn't.

A hidden alley in urban Baltimore is a haven for graffiti artists.

A blank headstone topped with a pile of pennies marks the final resting place of the infamous assassin.

At this former Prohibition speakeasy, electric birds signaled the arrival of hooch.

It’s not hard to see why the historic Peabody Conservatory of Music’s library has been described as a “cathedral of books.”

This simple convenience store sits on the location where the Ouija board was named—and has a plaque to prove it.

A monumental statue of RCA's mascot now sits atop a historical society roof after a life of moving around.

The design of this historic domed church was influenced by Thomas Jefferson and intended as a statement of religious freedom.

One artist’s scheme to expand museum viewing hours into the evening led to the illumination of an entire city.

Once America's tallest structure, now a Baltimore landmark.

Once a thriving business district, this former shopping area is now an urban ghost town in the heart of the city.

The site where Poe “in great distress, and ... in need of immediate assistance” likely died.

An abandoned church gets a second life as a massive beer hall and event space.

Wedged between two sets of row houses is an awkwardly located family graveyard.

A faded sign from the 1920s remembers Baltimore's resistance toward banning alcohol.

A 200-year-old bar with a cheeky name claims to have served Edgar Allan Poe his final drink.

A collection of artifacts from Maryland's maritime past.

This bug-eyed water wheel uses the power of the Sun to clean up Baltimore Harbor.

Baltimore's classic clock tower was once topped by a rotating, 20-ton medicine bottle.

The trials and tribulations of marking Poe’s grave.