On the top floor of an upscale department store stands a lavish restaurant housed in a replica of a luxury French dining car.

This New York holdover was built to provide housing for shopgirls and still does not allow men above the lobby.

A Ukrainian church canteen doles out hearty fare in an East Village basement.

The only home that Alexander Hamilton ever owned has a history almost as troubled as his own.

Once the tallest building in the world and the site of "the highest dinner ever held in New York" this building now holds the most expensive penthouse in the city.

The name of this famed hospital was once a byword for the horrors of medical and psychiatric care.

Wall Street has a new heroine, a bronze statue of a small but fierce girl.

The "Seinfeld" diner.

This 40-room dwelling tucked within a cliff was built by the basin's prehistoric residents.

Walk through the actual strap iron cells and solitary chambers of Arizona Territory’s first prison.

Concrete crosses scattered across the Arizona scrubland which were used to align spy satellites.

This strangely vacant Western amusement seems to be an empty tribute to residents of Lucerne Valley.

The liveliest ghost town in the state.

This sun-scorched lakebed contains samples of half the natural elements known to humankind.

This old mining town, deep in the California desert, has a year-round population of one.

The lowest point in North America is home to an undrinkable pool surrounded by fields of geometric salt flats.

Nationwide network of co-ownership underground catastrophe shelters.

A desert ghost town—occupied for only 12 years—was once home to more than 500 silver mines.

The "Fun Spot of the Desert" is now a haunting ruin, and a reminder that putting a water park in a desert is a bad idea.

One of the ghostly stops along Route 66.

No one's quite sure why there's a metal megaphone bolted on two rocks in the middle of the Mojave Desert.

The abandoned train depot now doubles as a well-placed rest stop for those who take the road less traveled.

The most isolated mailbox in America lets desert travelers record their passing.

In the middle of the desert, miles from any human life, sat an anomalous pay phone that still magically answers your calls.