A Physical Cultural Experience: Edgar Allen Poes House

 I grew up surrounded by poets, actors, and lovers of history who made it their mission to integrate the urban life-style into my childhood.  As a proud Baltimore native there are many parts of this city that I hold close to my heart. One could argue my passion for the city of Baltimore might be a little extreme as the city has yet to live down its reputation after the WIRE set it in stone for what seems like eternity. Non the less - there is not much of this city that I have yet to dive head first into. From Historical sites,  museums, restaurant week, and a personal favorite Hon-Fest I'm lucky to have grown up in such an amazing city. However as a lover of poetry raised by a poet uncle I found myself stunned when I realized neither of us had never visited Edgar Allen Poes house here in Baltimore city. Therefore I made it my mission to visit the historical site with my uncle - Chip. 

Eager to carve out time with family around my busy schedule I had planned for my uncle and I to visit all of Poes spots here in Baltimore - but to my surprise little of it was open on Saturdays. Despite my disappointment Poes house was still doing its tours, so happily as ever I met my uncle in one of Baltimore's more questionable areas. 

Greeted by a peculiar man, who's devotion to his study of poe was in itself poetic we listened intently as he told us about Poes house. As I always do I was dragging my uncles attention away from the mans historical insights and into my own peculiar thoughts and conversation completely unrelated. Before I knew it we were in! 

A tiny little house, with old historic wood and plaques telling tales of his time here in Baltimore we walked into a room filled with memorabilia. Jokingly we pointed and laughed at what my uncle possessed from the shop - books, blankets, stuffed Poes, pillows, buttons, and frames. It became shockingly clear that over the years those close to my uncle leaned a bit too hard into the fact both men were indeed poets in Baltimore. Like two kids in a candy shop we ventured on. 

Lovers of Poe as I would call us, we must have been a distraction to the tourists who'd come to read and learn about the strange little man(5'8) who once lived here. Theres no feeling like being an educated local in a room full of tourists I have to say. Looking back I envisioned my uncle and I skipping and jumping through this house snapping pictures pointing to our favorite quotes and interesting features of his house-and I have to say I don't believe that description is wrong.  

To know my uncle is to know a man who is grateful, kind, unbelievably lucky (his wife is gorgeous) and unapologetically himself. A lover of a cold brew, a good book, and hilariously peculiar in his own way. But another thing about my uncle is this man is not short, by any means. So as we trekked on throughout the house gushing in each-others company the house somehow - began to shrink. As I enjoyed the sight of my uncle awkwardly squeezing into places he was far too tall for, I of course let him lead the way upstairs. Clearing every level and stair unscathed we reached the top of the house, the sign read "one person upstairs at a time". So I danced my way up the 18 stairs and caught a glimpse of Poe's living quarters before leaping down the stairs, eager to watch my uncle embark on the short journey. As I predicted - my uncle proudly made his way to Poes room smacking his head on what I can only imagine to be the ceiling above the stair case. 

Oh how I love the time I spend with my uncle - especially when its exploring a historic site - the living quarters of one of our favorite poets. 

" I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched" - Edgar Allen Poe