The trials and tribulations of marking Poe’s grave.

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

A museum dedicated to exhibiting remarkable outsider art.

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

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

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

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

This Asian-inspired tower in a lush urban park provides spectacular panoramic views of Baltimore.

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

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

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.

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

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

This beloved Baltimore spot features caged dolls, a giant Pez collection, and many, many mannequins.

A swimming hole in the historic industrial quarry that supplied the marble for the Baltimore Washington Monument.

A local farm's collection of unusual structures from a now defunct storybook amusement park.

A historic Maryland home that once belonged to a man who has been called "the most insignificant" U.S. Supreme Court justice.

A relic of FDR's brief foray into utopian urban planning.

A lawn full of retired spacecraft on display at one of NASA's first research labs.

An FDR-era tuberculosis sanatorium has stood abandoned in the suburbs of the U.S. capital for over 30 years.

A lovely aquatic park built by a one-armed Civil War veteran who made a fortune from lotuses.

The Corinthian columns that towered over Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration stand proud.

One of the dwarven trees dates back to 1625 and survived the Hiroshima bombing.