Island ghost town detailing Flagler's folly in building the Overseas Railroad.

An abandoned vacation home spent a decade taking on legends. It's now taking on water.

This 25-foot tall clock tower commemorates the start of one of America's foremost shopping districts and the end of the historic Palm Beach Pier.

This railroad and oil tycoon's lavish estate now stands as a time capsule of the Gilded Age.

Known as the most resilient water tower in the region.

This kitsch eatery is chock-a-block with bric-a-brac.

The smallest post office in the United States is no bigger than a broom closet.

A time capsule of Floridian history fights to survive on the banks of Chokoloskee Bay.

One-time winter retreats of prolific inventor Thomas Edison and his friend Henry Ford.

Long before Europeans arrived, Native Americans built an artificial island out of shells that has withstood a millennia of hurricanes.

Former utopian colony based on the belief that the universe exists in a hollow sphere.

This distinctive Crescent City tradition dates back to the days of horse-drawn carriages.

This cathedral dedicated to Louis IX, sainted King of France, holds many secrets.

The world-record holder for the longest bridge stretching continuously over water.

A prime example of New Orleans' unique architecture these early 20th century homes were built to look like steamboats.

This symbolic piece of New Orleans architecture is also home to a few ghastly stories.

The oldest cemetery in New Orleans, resting peacefully for over 200 years now.

The oldest family-run restaurant in the United States is a living museum of New Orleans dining history.

Parts of the civil rights movement unfolded in this historic eatery, helmed by the "Queen of Creole Cuisine."

The only rotating bar in New Orleans has been slowly spinning since 1949.

A 200-year-old bar in the historic French Quarter refuses to give up its place in history, nor its role in securing ours.

The last remaining relic of San Francisco's glittering 1915 Panama Pacific Exposition.

The seawater playground of gilded-era San Francisco burned to the ground in 1966.

In all of the 29 years it was in operation, no prisoners ever escaped successfully... or so they claim.