A mega theme park-wax museum mélange containing all things biblical.

It's believed Elvis Presley was inspired to write his breakthrough track after staying here.

A collection of artifacts from Maryland's maritime past.

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

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

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

America's first nuclear-powered merchant ship is now a time warp to the atomic age.

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

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

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

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

Ship skeletons haunt Baltimore's waterways.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The trials and tribulations of marking Poe's grave.

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

Eighteen miniature death-scene dioramas.

Priceless space junk on display in front of a local Dairy Queen.

This recreation of a 19th-century dime museum is full of oddities.

Arlington Cemetery exhibit dedicated to death and grieving.