If astronomy had a ghost, it would look like this observatory.

The world's largest collection of mechanical puzzles is a cornucopia of analog bafflers.

The Midwestern United States' tribute to Michelangelo is a foam statue sprayed with gaudy gold paint.

Ruined pieces of stone and a swimming pool are all that remain of an amusement park swept away by a flood.

Lone survivor from Custer's Last Stand forever preserved.

This recently restored timepiece has stood all around Kansas City.

The first car-centric shopping plaza in the U.S. brought a little bit of Spain to downtown Kansas City.

Four, 18-foot-tall badminton shuttlecocks lie scattered about the lawn of a Kansas City museum.

Community bookshelf of 25-foot-tall book spines.

This simple, broken column marks the final resting place of one of America's most famous explorers.

Over a dozen Native American earth mounds dating back over 2,000 years dot this Tennessee archaeological park.

The Old Courthouse takes visitors on a captivating trip through St. Louis' timeline.

What was meant to be a temporary exhibit is now a permanent fixture at the St. Louis Zoo filled with beautiful birds.

Speak to a companion on the other side of the room loud and clear through this architectural anomaly.

The Magic House provides a beautiful and creative environment for curious youngsters to get their knowledge on.

What was once a presidential estate is now an exotic menagerie and home to the Budweiser Clydesdales.

Less a museum than a bizarre fantasy world created by artists and engineers.

This abstract roadside poultry was saved from demolition by outraged drivers and pilots.

On Hilton Head Island this bronze King of the Sea rules all things briny—and lets you know if you’re late for lunch.

A pink and gray pair of pachyderms advertise a fireworks shop.

The "last unrestored grand mansion of Savannah" is now a cramped, mouldering maze of antiques.

A statue honoring 44 continuous years of greeting passing ships.

One of Savannah's oldest and most haunted cemeteries, featuring graves desecrated by Sherman's Union Army.

Local myth claims this is a Sears catalogue home with its windows installed upside-down.