A hidden piece of Altoona's railroad history in a long-forgotten abandoned town.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This abandoned asylum was once a state of the art facility before devolving into one of the most deadly mental institutions in American history.

A museum dedicated to exhibiting remarkable outsider art.

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

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

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

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

The trials and tribulations of marking Poe's grave.

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

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

A convincing little bit of ancient Egypt smack dab in Richmond, Virginia.