Have a ball telling the time at this giant kinetic-energy clock.

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.

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

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

Baltimore's first skyscraper may be home to the inspiration behind pulp fiction's most celebrated bird.

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

After decades of neglect, a brutalist icon is getting new life as an eco-friendly hotel.

While many places make the claim, the Library of Congress says this restaurant is the birthplace of the hamburger.

This handsome giant is said to mark the birthplace of the mythical woodsman and even had a cameo in a Stephen King novel.

This Art Deco theater is the last remaining opera house in the “little Broadway of the North.”

The eccentric mansion of one of the most popular horror authors of modern times.

The word "Watergate" will forever be associated with the infamous scandal in 1972, but this fountain is famous in its own right.

In the power of this waterfall, Alexander Hamilton saw the potential for industry.

This elaborate towering structure was once famed for its revolutionary height.

A beacon atop a downtown building provides Bostonians with weather forecasts and baseball news.

Mrs. Mallard and her brood are a beloved fixture in Boston Public Garden.

Look closely and you’ll notice that the color changes a third of the way up the tower.

This mysterious structure by the Washington Monument is a flood barrier designed to protect the White House against rising waters.

On the Fourth of July this area will transform into a Pompeii-like storm of falling embers and ash.

The Lincoln Memorial has inspired many, even though a word on the inscription appears to be spelled incorrectly.

A cavernous three-story, 43,800-square-foot basement that was forgotten about for 60 years.

Decades before the scandal, this staircase on the river was a literal "water gate."