After Poe's death in 1849, he was laid to rest in his family's plot in the Westminster Burying Grounds in Baltimore. E.A. Poe was originally placed in Lot 27, next to his grandfather David Poe, Sr. (from Londonderry, Ireland) and his older brother, William Henry Leonard Poe.

The day he was buried, an obituary appeared in the New York Tribune that depicted Poe as a deranged drunk and a drug-addled misanthrope. Signed by "Ludwig," the piece was actually written by one of Poe's chief literary rivals, Rufus Wilmot Griswold.

Not only did Wilmot's piece get reprinted in several national publications, it was contained in Poe's posthumous writing anthologies (oddly, Griswold had weaseled his way into the position of Poe's literary executor).

While many of Griswold's anonymous character assassinations have proven to be lies, forgeries, or half-truths- the damage had been done. For years, Poe was (and in many ways, is still) depicted as a mad genius.

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On October 3, 1849, a distraught, disheveled and semi-conscious Edgar Allan Poe was brought in a carriage to the Washington University Hospital of Baltimore (also called the Washington College Hospital; later known as Church Home or Church Hospital). Four days later on October 7, 1849, Poe was dead at the age of 40.

The circumstances surrounding Poe's death are extremely mysterious. Many theories exist to rationalize Poe's condition: hypoglycemia, depression, drug-induced hallucinations, and conspiratorial murder plots have all been proposed as potential death knells by his biographers.

Poe's own attending physician in his final days, Dr. John J. Moran, proved to be more successful in capitalizing on those last moments of interaction with Poe than actually caring for him as a patient. His accounts of Poe's condition and actions during those last days became more embellished as Moran hit the lecture circuit.

In 1853, several attempts were made to burn down Washington University Hospital by residents of the neighborhood. Apparently, they had grown tired of the hospital's reputation for digging up bodies from the cemetery down the street for dissection.

A hospital worker recalled, "It was said there had been people kidnapped and taken in there which made Washington College a horror to the people in the city of Baltimore. After the sun went down you hardly ever saw a person anywhere near it."

Today, a new housing complex called Broadway Overlook has been built on the former grounds of the hospital. According to The Dome (a John Hopkins Medicine periodical), the room where Poe died is currently occupied.

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The American writer Stephen Crane (1871-1900), author of The Red Badge of Courage and numerous short stories, lived in this modest home with his thirteen siblings as a youth.

Although Crane lived to be only 28 years old, he was a prolific essayist, poet, short story writer, novelist, and war correspondent. After he died in Germany in 1900, Crane was buried in Hillside, NJ.

Today, the Stephen Crane House is a cultural hub for Asbury Park, hosting readings, film screenings, theatrical performances, and more.

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At the bottom of San Cristobal Hill, in the Bellavista neighborhood of Santiago, is one of the three houses that the poet Pablo Neruda occupied in Chile.

In 1953, Neruda started to build a home for his secret love, Matilde Urrutia. He named the home La Chascona ("wild hair"), the same nickname he had for Urrutia because of her abundant red hair. Neruda moved in after separating from his wife in February 1955.

Neruda died on September 23rd, 1973, only days after the military coup by Pinochet. The home was vandalized, but Urrutia was determined to have the funeral in the home. She spent the night with friends in the living room surrounded by broken windows.

Urrutia lived in the home until she died in 1985. Today it's a museum and is open to the public.

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“I feel the tiredness of Santiago. I want to find in Valparaiso a little house to live and write quietly. It must have some conditions. It can’t be located to high or to low. It should be solitary but not in excess. With neighbours hopefully invisibles. They shouldn’t be seen or heard. Original, but not uncomfortable. With many wings, but strong. Neither too big or too small. Far from everything but close to the transportation. Independent, but close to the commerce. Besides it has to be very cheap. Do you think I would find a house like that in Valparaiso?- Pablo Neruda in a letter to friends, 1959.

Although his list of demands for a home was impressive, in 1959 Pablo Neruda's friends found this mansion on Florida Hill that fit the poet's desires. Neruda ultimately felt the home was too big; he split the home and sold the bottom two floors to the sculptor Marie Martner and her husband, Dr. Francisco Velasco. Neruda retained the third and fourth floor and a tower.

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