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

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

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

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

Once America's tallest structure, now a Baltimore landmark.

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.

Baltimore's first skyscraper may be home to the inspiration behind pulp fiction's most celebrated bird.

Electronic inventions that resulted in products and systems we use every day are on display in this labor-of-love museum.

The trials and tribulations of marking Poe's grave.

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

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

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

The childhood home of the Sultan of Swat is just a line drive away from Oriole Park at Camden Yards.

A real flying saucer, contracted by the U.S. Air Force.

After just one epic test blast, this literal loose cannon proved too explosive for combat.

A white oak with property rights.

Enormous lake at the bottom of a unique cave system.

Coca Cola may be "the real thing" but its inventor, buried at this Georgia gravesite, called it a "valuable brain tonic."

One person's lost luggage is another person's treasure.

The perfectly named cave drop is the deepest in the continental United States, almost matching the height of Seattle’s Space Needle.

This hidden stone has absorbed decades of human anxiety.