An atomic bomb-proof strongbox protects the U.S. Constitution from terrorists and thieves.

Colorful murals stationed throughout Charlotte bring poetry to everyone.

A spectacular tribute to statesman and philanthropist Andrew Mellon.

Coins and medals straight from the mint await visitors to this shop in the nation's capital.

Railroad officials in the early 1900s sought to spare travelers the sight of Roman soldiers’ private parts.

This statue of the "father of television" stands prominently in the United States Capitol.

The word "Watergate" will forever be associated with the infamous scandal in 1972, but this fountain is famous in its own right.

An amazing example of early-20th-century architecture, this church features marble transported from Utah.

This taxidermy horse was a Civil War hero.

A promising candidate for the lost rock laid by George Washington was unearthed, but the hunt is still on.

The fountains of the U.S. Navy Memorial are annually salted with water from the Seven Seas as part of a nautical ritual.

100 years later, they're still down there.

Daredevil repair workers can worm their way out the access hatch, loop ropes over the apex and rappel down the monument.

When it comes to handsignals (and colonialism) rock always beats scissors.

A much-maligned monument to teetotalism.

There’s a special club house at the top for the bell ringers.

Architecture lovers won’t stop touching the National Gallery's 19.5 degree marble prow.

A fantastic array of trays and cables once whisked books over to the Capitol at 600 feet per minute.

Go take a picture with the inventor of the daguerreotype photographic process.

Light bulbs, scrap wood, and tinfoil comprise this homemade throne of the gods.

The preamble to the U.S. Constitution written entirely from vanity license plates hangs in the Smithsonian museum.

A traveling postal dog covered 48 states and more than 140,000 miles, and he lives on as taxidermy, patched up with a rabbit's foot and a pig's ear.

A little marble compass above George Washington's (empty) tomb in the Capitol marks where D.C.'s four quadrants intersect.

The institution is sitting on a goldmine of 21,000 paints, varnishes, pigments, and primers preserved for posterity.