An eerie, decaying ghost town destined to fade into the forest.

The haunting "Hell House Altar" is one of the few remnants of an abandoned college that has been a magnet for local legends.

The likeness of the Baltimore music icon was unveiled in time for the anniversary of his Senate hearings on music censorship.

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

Eighteen miniature death-scene dioramas.

A model home in the Medical Examiner's Office in which grisly death scenes are staged to train forensic investigators.

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.

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

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.

A museum dedicated to exhibiting remarkable outsider art.

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

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

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

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

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

Public opinion is still divided on this enormous sculpture in front of Baltimore's Penn Station.

The man who first patented the Ouija board rests in peace beneath a headstone that playfully reflects that achievement.

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

Ship skeletons haunt Baltimore's waterways.

An eerie, abandoned military base engulfed by nature and graffiti is now home to a local park.

The only public swimming pool in Baltimore open to Black Americans during segregation is now a permanent memorial art exhibit.

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