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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

A staggering collection of photographs depicting medical, social, and historical change.

Imagine having a street run right through your home, or better yet, a historic bridge three stories high.

Unrepaired walls from a 1920 anarchist bomb attack.

The rough and tumble president's childhood home displays the shirt he was once shot in and the speech that saved him.

A tiny museum housed in a New York freight elevator specializes in the "overlooked, dismissed, or ignored."

The feral felines of Roosevelt Island have a small army of allies and an abandoned hospital all to themselves.

The notorious headquarters of a corrupt political machine.

A strangely angled West Village home is the only monument to an explosion that took the lives of three American revolutionaries.

A Manhattan courthouse hides a small but scathing memorial to Holocaust injustice.

The only remaining building in New York to see the inauguration of a president is being slowly overtaken by a grocery store.

A 19th-century politician who died after walking home in a blizzard is honored with this Manhattan statue.

This 220-year-old house is a reminder of New York City's Dutch past.

Under a glass sidewalk lie the remains of some of Manhattan's oldest buildings.

A clock set into the concrete outside a Manhattan jeweler has been telling time underfoot for over a century.

Twice a day one of these tragic bronze mariners drowns with the tide to remember all those the sea has taken.

This anonymous businessman sculpted in bronze became an enduring memorial after 9/11, and had been mistaken by rescue workers for a survivor in the rubble.