Edgar Allan Poe's Grave — Attraction in Baltimore

In Baltimore's Westminster Hall, amid the jumble of historic gravestones and background red brick buildings, sits the peculiar memorial of Edgar Allan Poe—America's first literary rock star of the macabre. The monument, a chunky classical pedestal of weathered white stone, projects an austere dignity that feels both appropriate and insufficient for a writer whose life was defined by brilliance and chaos in equal measure.

The memorial's artistic choices speak volumes. A bronze medallion bearing Poe's unmistakable visage—deep-set eyes, furrowed brow, and signature mustache—emanates intensity even in oxidized relief. Above, decorative lyres carved into the stonework offer a gentle reminder that this master of horror was, at heart, a poet obsessed with rhythm and sound. The name "EDGAR ALLAN POE" chiseled in bold capitals ensures no visitor mistakes this site for anything less than hallowed literary ground.

What the smartphone images capture perfectly is not the memorial's grandeur (it has little) but its curiously mundane setting. Here lies one of America's most influential writers, surrounded not by gothic spires or mournful statuary but by ordinary urban life—parked cars, pedestrians clutching coffee cups, and brick buildings that range from gentrified to gently decaying. This juxtaposition feels remarkably apt for a writer whose stories turned ordinary domestic spaces into landscapes of psychological terror.

The scattered offerings visible in the second image—a humble pumpkin, a few crimson flowers—reveal the endearing awkwardness of modern literary pilgrimage. Unlike the "Poe Toaster," the mysterious figure who for decades left roses and cognac at this site before vanishing into Baltimore's night like a character from one of Poe's tales, today's visitors make do with whatever seasonal tokens they can carry.

Despite its modest appearance, this site delivers something essential that grander monuments often lack—authenticity. Poe died destitute and delirious at 40, his body initially marked by a small, easily overlooked stone before admirers raised funds for this upgraded memorial. The current monument, neither ostentatious nor neglected, strikes the perfect chord for a writer whose work exists in the uncomfortable space between high art and popular entertainment.

For visitors, the experience is deliciously unmediated. No velvet ropes, no admission tickets, no audio guides—just you, Poe, and whatever ghosts you bring along. On an autumn afternoon, with fallen leaves skittering across the brick pathways and the urban soundtrack of distant traffic providing ambient noise, one can almost hear the faint tapping of a raven at the chamber door.

Those seeking profound literary communion might find themselves instead contemplating life's strange symmetries: how a writer who crafted stories about being buried alive ended up with two graves (his body was moved to this more visible location years after his death), and how a man who struggled to pay rent in life has become a permanent resident in one of Baltimore's most storied...

If you've read the other reviews about Edgar Allan Poe's grave, you've probably already learned everything you really need to know: easy to access, well-maintained, very moving experience, roses and notes left on the headstone, original burial site out back.

My daughter lives in Baltimore, and from the moment I learned she was moving there, I couldn't wait to visit this famous literary site with her. While some mothers read their daughters Little Golden books or stories of Disney princesses, I read my daughter The Cask of Amontillado. We both have Poe tattoos. This was a big deal to us to visit this site together for the first time.

I'm not really sure what I expected to encounter. To me, Poe is larger than life. Surely there are guards and gates and all these other things to keep people from doing anything that might in any way disrupt these magnificent grounds! But no. Quite the opposite. It's very accessible. It's marked, but if you're not really looking for it, you could easily miss it. It's actually very modest considering that we're talking about Edgar Allan Freakin' Poe (not his legal name).

I live in Buffalo, not far from where Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) was buried in Elmira. I also live very near to some other famous gravestones not associated with authors (Forest Lawn Cemetery in Buffalo is home to the final resting places of rocker Rick James, former President Millard Fillmore, and inventor of the electric chair Alfred P Southwick). I give you this brief history so you know that this is not my first time visiting the gravesite of a very well-known person. Still, I was incredibly taken aback by the ease at accessing Poe's grave.

It's pretty peaceful here too - not at all touristy, I'd say (unless I just happened to go on a day when fortuned smiled upon me!). It would be a great place to sit and read, think, draw, or paint.

A quick tip: If you have a problem walking hills, I'd recommend getting someone to drop you off at the site. It's in a slightly hilly area and there's no really convenient place to park nearby.

"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough." (The Cask of...

An amazingly well kept graveyard and church that has more history per square foot than you would think is possible. Wrought iron fences surround it like a garden, a green lot with white and grey stones and vaults, including some memorable sculptures. The area isn't the greatest, but it's a big city, so just follow the same common sense you would in any big city. I've been here many times over the past decade and never once (even as a kid) felt like I was in any kind of danger. Was mistaken for a costumed tour guide once....and I had to tell them that a) I actually dress like that and b) wasn't a tour guide. Poe's original burial site is behind the church but he, his wife, and his mother-in-law are all currently interred in the near corner of the place under a massive white stone monument: you can't possibly miss it. Also someone kissed it with black lipstick, which, I cannot condone but thought was fitting. Metered street parking was easy enough to find during the week, but it's not astronomic like it is closer to the harbor. I think 1.25 bought me an hour? It's open daily dawn to dusk and year round, no admission price, but some organizations and the church (which has been deconsecrated and is now used as a venue for various events) offer historical tours for several dollars--I've never taken one as there are A LOT of guide plaques with information about the graveyard and those interred there spread throughout the place. There's even catacombs below it that are occasionally...