List price: $3,200,000

Year built: 2008

Real estate agent: Henry Olaya, Northrop Realty

Last sold price/date: $1,100,000 / July 24, 2019

Property size: 20.82 acres

Unique features: It’s not where one might look for a stylish 20-acre waterfront estate. But this three-level home in Bowleys Quarters, on Middle River, offers a chic and futuristic residence along the eastern cusp of Baltimore County. The porcelain tile floors, white walls and ultra-modern motif evoke scenes from “Sleeper,” the Woody Allen film.

With more than 5,600 square feet of living space, the home has seven bedrooms and nine baths. To ward off the bone-chilling winter sea breeze, there are four fireplaces (wood, gas and electric), heated floors and a whole-house generator for back-up. Two hearths grace the primary suite, which has a cathedral ceiling, skylights, double walk-in closets, and its own deck. In the kitchen are double ovens and 42-inch custom-made cabinets with soft-close drawers for tiny hands. The lower level is almost a home in itself with a bedroom, bath, kitchenette, fireplace, rec area and private wine room.

The generous tract, conveniently flat, boasts established trees, a three-car garage and a stone-covered path leading to a pier and 800 feet of shoreline. The walk takes one past the outdoor pool, covered patio, fire pit, pavilion, goldfish pond and children’s tree house. The dock has two boat slips, a 10,000-pound lift and a jet ski lift for thrill-seekers.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

The armistice declared Nov. 11, 1918, triggered jubilation throughout the state, the likes of which no one had ever seen. People tooted horns, rang cowbells and danced on dirt roads and cobbled streets. They sang hymns and war songs, embracing hugs with friends and strangers. They paraded down main streets in Baltimore, Annapolis, Westminster and Hagerstown, from dawn til late at night, to the music of marching bands that appeared, it seemed, from nowhere in a festive frenzy to celebrate the end of The Great War.

In Annapolis, one parade was led by the Naval Academy band, The Baltimore Sun reported, “a large number of the members of which are Italian and who were wild with joy at the termination of the war.”

The parade passed, circled back and kept marching for hours after dark, “turning into a torchlight procession — brooms, despite the high price, being the torches.”

In Hagerstown, factory and train whistles began blaring at 3 a.m., joined at dawn by tin cans and bells being dragged through the streets of town. At mid-morning, townsfolk joined a cavalcade of motor- and horse-drawn vehicles touting American flags and placards making “uncomplimentary insinuations about the [German] ex-Kaiser.”

The town of Westminster staged a parade of 300 cars, led by a truck displaying a captured German artillery gun. Then, citizens gathered in the town armory and sang the hymn, “Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow.”

Baltimore itself declared a municipal holiday as tens of thousands of people poured onto city streets, joining impromptu parades and clogging traffic. Courts and schools closed; department stores and munitions factories shut down.

“Nobody was in a humor for working,” The Sun reported. “Everyone realized that it would be almost a sacrilege to labor.”

American flags flew like confetti, amid home-scrawled placards that read, “To Hell with the Kaiser” and “We got Kaiser Bill’s goat.”

“The city celebrated, not in a spirit of vengeance, but in a spirit that proclaimed that justice and righteousness had triumphed,” The Sun opined. “And everyone joined in the joy of the day, even those who have left sons and brothers and husbands on the battlefields. Their joy was that their dear ones had not died in vain, and that their blood had helped buy the liberties of the world, now made secure.”

When one band began playing “The Star Spangled Banner,” the horde stopped its revelry and sang in heartfelt unison. When the music turned to “Over There,” a group of girls scrambled atop the portico of The Savings Bank of Baltimore building, on Baltimore Street, and danced to the tunes of the popular war songs.

In the end, The Sun reported, “Every device that could be employed to make a noise, every method that could be used to express deep feeling and unbounded joy, every meaning that could be put into a smile on a human face was used and shown in Baltimore on the greatest day that the world has ever known.”

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List price: $1,195,000

Year built: 2002

Real estate agent: Dave Hudson, Cummings & Co. Realtors

Last sold price/date:  $550,000 / Nov. 7, 2002

Property size: 1.72 acres

Unique features: Privacy abounds at this three-story colonial, which sits at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac and backs up to several hundred acres of preserved farmland in northern Harford County. Crops, not condos, are one’s neighbors for life.

The brick-front home has nearly 6,400 square feet of living space, including two kitchens, six bedrooms and five full bathrooms. In the main kitchen are granite counters, a double sink and a pantry. There are hardwood floors on the main level, carpeting in the bedrooms and ceramic tile in the baths. The master bedroom boasts a two-sided gas fireplace, whose flip side connects to the primary bath and — get this — sits atop a jetted tub. One can enjoy the glowing hearth during a soothing soak.

Floor-to-ceiling windows in the family room look out at the rural acreage. The lower level features a home theater, a mirrored workout room (with Nautilus station) and that convenient second kitchen. Outside, the nearly 1¾ acre estate has a ground-level patio, a screened rear deck and a heated in-ground pool surrounded by a decorative wrought-iron fence. Established trees and shrubs grace the landscape. Lounging in the pool, one sees nothing but farmland for one mile, maybe more.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List Price: $3,150,000

Year Built: 1913

Real estate agent: Jason Perlow, Monument Sotheby’s International Realty

Last sold price/date: $1,775,000 / Oct. 15, 2013

Property size: 3.4 acres

Unique features: Window seats, leaded glass and an antique chandelier? This three-story Colonial Revival flaunts its age, cozying up to the past on a nearly 3-½ acre estate in Ruxton. There are decorative carved mantles on the fireplaces, reclaimed heart pine flooring in the kitchen and original double-pocket doors in the living room.

Built in 1913, the stucco home beckons with a covered, wrap-around porch and stone gazebo out front, plus a small hill for winter sledding. There are hardwood floors and bay windows, both upstairs and down. The two-story foyer features a curved staircase leading to the primary suite, with a spacious bedroom, dressing room and bath. The latter has Italian marble-topped vanities, wall toiletry shelves, a walk-in closet and custom plantation shutters. Of the six bedrooms, three have ornate fireplaces. On the third floor is a large carpeted playroom with storage cubbies for kids.

The sizeable kitchen includes 42-inch custom maple cabinets, marble counters and a cast iron farm sink. Out back are wide bluestone walkways leading to a rear patio with a handsome brick fireplace for grilling. Beyond, under dappled sunlight, is a heated, in-ground 50-foot swimming pool. A lighted breezeway joins the detached two-car garage to the back porch, and a nearby storage shed awaits its fill.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

A first-round draft pick of the San Diego Chargers in 1969, Domres was dealt to the Colts in 1972. Expected to understudy Unitas, then 39, Domres became a starter in midseason during a shake-up of the 1-4 team by new owner Robert Irsay. Buoyed by the Columbia University grad, who was booed mercilessly by Unitas’ fans, the Colts split their next six games before the last home contest against the Buffalo Bills — and the final game for Unitas at Memorial Stadium, though the odds of his playing that day were slim.

“That game was the highlight of my career,” Domres told The Baltimore Sun in 2009. He passed for three touchdowns and rushed for a fourth as the Colts led 28-0. But after that last score, a 15-yard run, Domres limped off the field, feigning injury. His act allowed Unitas to come off the bench and throw a 63-yard touchdown pass to Eddie Hinton. The crowd went nuts.

“The noise? I can’t imagine any sporting event having that decibel level,” Domres recalled. “When John trotted back off the field, all of us had tears in our eyes. I remember every second. It was an unbelievably moving experience and the most memorable event of my [nine-year] career.”

For his part in that game, Domres was named NFL Offensive Player of the Week.

A bright Ivy Leaguer, he squared off against the blustery Irsay during the quarterback’s four years in Baltimore. Once, after a forgettable preseason loss to the Atlanta Falcons in 1973, Domres was publicly berated by the owner in the locker room. Domres lashed back, telling Irsay, “You don’t know if the football is blown up or stuffed.”

Gradually, his playing time diminished in favor of Bert Jones, the team’s No. 1 draft choice in 1973. But Domres finished that year on the rise, leading the Colts (4-10) to successive season-ending victories over the soon-to-be-Super Bowl champion Miami Dolphins and New England Patriots.

Domres was quick to help his successor’s transition from college to the pros, said Jones, the NFL Most Valuable Player in 1976.

“I valued Marty’s friendship,” said Jones, 74. “It’s hard to compete with somebody and still be friends. But Marty was someone I could always rely on to give me information that was good.”

“He had a quick wit, and we had a lot of belly laughs together. Once, before we left for a road game, I let all of the air out of the tires of his car at the airport. Marty never knew who did it, but now that he’s on the other side, I fear he’s gained that knowledge — so I’m looking over my shoulder.”

Before the 1976 season, Domres was dealt to the San Francisco 49ers and retired from football in 1978. All told, for the Colts, he completed 51% of his passes for 3,471 yards and 21 touchdowns.

He settled in Baltimore and worked as a financial adviser for Deutsche Bank Alex. Brown. Domres remained friends with Unitas and played golf with the Hall of Famer at Hillendale Country Club.

“I saw John at his house, not long before he passed away [in 2002],” Domres once told The Sun. “He was wearing a golf outfit, so I figured he was going out to play a round.

“John said, ‘No, knucklehead, I’m going to church, like I do every morning.’

“I said, ‘Say a prayer for me.’ ”

Unitas frowned.

“I’d have to say a rosary for you,” he answered.

Two days later, Unitas died of a heart attack. Domres attended the funeral.

Domres is survived by his wife, Cheryl Domres, of Reisterstown, and a stepson, Christian Cummings, of Stevenson.

A memorial service will be held Oct. 30 at 11 a.m. at St. Joseph Parish, 100 Church Lane, Cockeysville.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List Price: $1,800,000

Year built: 2002

Real estate agent: Creig Northrop, Northrop Realty

 Last sold price/date: $473,000 (land alone) / May 9, 2000

Property size: 4.05 acres

Unique features: With multiple turrets and an Old World charm, this custom-built mansion has the look of a Bavarian castle. The sprawling brick-and-cedar home sits on four woodsy acres, at the end of a quiet road near Ellicott City. With nearly 7,300 square feet of living space, there’s enough room to celebrate Oktoberfest, or any other gala, in grand style.

There’s an open, flowing feel to the house, with its two-story ceilings and oversized windows. The grand foyer has a marble floor and a circular skylight. There are four fireplaces, five staircases, six bedrooms and seven stylish baths. The kitchen features 42-inch cabinets, a center island with a handy prep sink and a breakfast nook with lofty windows peering into the leafy landscape.

This one-off home boasts a unique second-floor sitting room at the top of the main staircase, with handsome bookshelves and a tray ceiling. A separate guest suite offers bedroom, bath, mini-fridge and wet bar. plus a private entrance from one of two garages.

The property is marked by a circular driveway, stone patios and brick archways. Japanese maples and brilliant azaleas dot the premises, while a stone path leads to a wooden gazebo set deep in the woods. It’s a fairy-tale setting that would delight the likes of the Brothers Grimm.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List price: $950,000

Year built: 2000

Real estate agent: Elisabeth Yeager, Homes and Farms Real Estate

Last sold price/date: $530,000 / June 30, 2014

Property size: 2.19 acres

Unique features: Nestled in northern Carroll County, the three-story colonial has six bedrooms, five baths, three fireplaces and a spacious office for telecommuters. A private quarter-mile driveway, past an adjoining horse farm, leads to the custom-built home, with its stone veneer and wraparound front porch. A two-story foyer flows into the office, which is set apart by double-glazed French doors. There, one can work late and tumble into the first-floor bedroom without disturbing others.

The kitchen, featuring custom cabinets and a gleaming center island, leads to the pantry, which, in turn, leads to the two-car garage, making unloading groceries a breeze. Upstairs, the master suite features a bath with a vaulted ceiling, a jetted corner tub and dual shower heads. That same bedroom leads to a private covered deck that overlooks the in-ground pool and poolhouse, pergola, stone hearth and hot tub, the last of which beckons beneath a leafy arbor.

Elsewhere on the two-acre estate are a spacious workshop building and a three-stall barn, both with electricity. There’s also a treehouse for kids and wooden sheds for prospective goats and chickens (livestock not included).

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

At the turn of the century, All Hallows’ Eve spawned bands of masked pranksters who, armed with bags of the white stuff, prowled the city’s cobbled streets and spattered the unsuspecting, sending them running for cover.

“For several hours [last night], the streets in all parts of the city were filled with romping boys and girls, many in grotesque costumes, and all armed with packages of flour,” The Sun reported on Nov. 1, 1898. “Few who passed them escaped handfuls of the white dust, which caused retreats into stores, barber shops and homes. Soon hair, face and clothing would be covered … many young men went about with their coats turned wrong-side out, to protect them.”

Those dressed in dark outfits were prime targets:

“A man who wore a black clerical suit and a tall hat was well whitened by a lot of youngsters at West and Light streets; he took refuge in a drugstore … a boy in Northwest Baltimore made the mistake of dusting the new uniform of a policeman, and was arrested.”

In South Baltimore, The Sun reported, “enough flour was thrown about the streets to feed many destitute families.”

Thus began a rowdy era of Halloween antics by the city’s youth. Emboldened, perhaps, by these early shenanigans, youngsters took to the streets each Oct. 31 to bedevil police and the public with an array of high jinks and horseplay.

In 1901, for instance, the evening produced this spree of nerve-racking mischief:

“The deadly cowbell, dragged through the streets in bunches on the ends of strings by platoons of boys, made horrible music, and when the boys had no cowbells they pulled bouquets of tin cans … to make the air reek with noise.”

A year later, the pranksters had moved on:

“Some dignified gentlemen had their tall hats swept from their heads by an invisible string stretched at just the right height above the pavement … On many of the streetcar lines, the conductors were obliged to travel fast past certain corners and duck quickly as they went by, to avoid a fusillade of sand thrown by a rollicking crowd.”

Some of those duped struck back. At Falls Road and Lafayette Avenue, a gang of revelers showered Raymond Kines, 26, with cornmeal. Kines marched into a nearby saloon, grabbed a billiard cue and whacked one of the youths, 17, on the head. Kines was sentenced to four months in jail.

For the most part, police turned a blind eye, allowing youngsters to have their fun. “Small Boys Riot Unrebuked,” read a headline in The Sun. But by 1908, city fathers had had enough. More than 1,000 patrolmen hit the streets on Halloween, “the object being to keep the most sinning of sinners, the small boy, from throwing a handful of flour on milady’s evening gown; from gathering in crowds of more than one; from pulling the doorbells of ‘Old Man Stingy,’ who lives around the corner — in fact, to attack, overwhelm and crush down that time-honored prerogative of the small boy — his right to have fun.”

In 1910, flour-throwing was banned in Baltimore. For a time, even costumed merrymakers were frowned upon, for fear they were up to no good. On Halloween, any youngsters seen “parading along in masks [on city streets] were halted and made to unmask by stern bluecoats.” Moreover, police stopped girls dressed as men, even George Washington, as local ordinances forbade cross-dressing by either gender.

By 1915, all seemed to have found a common ground. The city staged annual Halloween carnivals, where revelers paraded down Baltimore, Howard and Lexington Streets — tooting noisemakers and flaunting their outfits, everything from gypsies and clowns to would-be Charlie Chaplains — in what The Sun described as “a helter-skelter Mardi Gras.” Costumes were judged and prizes awarded. As many as 50,000 people turned out each year to watch the festivities.

After two decades, the prank of dousing one’s victims with Pillsbury’s finest seemed to have run its course. As the Baltimore Afro-American reported in 1919, “The high cost of living prevented useless investments in flour, with which to sprinkle the innocent passers-by.”

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List Price: $2,980,000 (to be auctioned Oct. 22-30)

Year Built: 1929

Real estate agent: Brad Kappel, TTR Sotheby’s International Realty

Last sold price/date: $2,370,000 / Dec. 6, 2019

Property size: 6.47 acres

Unique features: Live in the brick mansion on this densely wooded island in the Severn River, and your only real neighbors are the osprey, bald eagles and a skulk of foxes.

The 6½-acre estate comprises nearly half of St. Helena Island, a private retreat with a colorful past. In the last 100 years, it has been the site of a private club, a home for handicapped children, a wedding venue, a casino (once raided) and, during Prohibition, a bootleggers’ haven. The Federal Revival-style residence dates to that era (1929) and was modeled after Homewood, the 19th-century mansion on the campus of Johns Hopkins University. It retains many original features, including mahogany floors, hearths of Belgian marble and leaded casement windows. Several antique chandeliers and safes (including a walk-in vault) bedeck the home, first owned by a noted financier.

The main house boasts five bedrooms and six baths. There’s also a guest cottage and a remodeled water tower, now a home office with a panoramic view of the landscape. With 1,600 feet of shoreline (and a sandy beach), the property is easily accessible by water. A pier is flanked by three boat lifts and a deep-water slip that can handle 110-foot yachts. Maybe the foxes were stowaways.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.

List Price: $2,500,000

Year Built: 1991

Real estate agent: Patty Manly, Berkshire Hathaway Home Services, PenFed Realty

 Last sold price/date: $1,300,000 / April 8, 2011

Property size: 10.4 acres

Unique features: On paper, it bears all of the hallmarks of a flamboyant mansion: Five bedrooms, nine bathrooms, six fireplaces and two  garages. In truth, this three-story brick colonial doesn’t fit the bill. Elegance trumps extravagance; this place is proof.

More stylish than showy, the home sits at the foot of a shared half-mile lane that ends in a circular driveway on the 10½-acre estate. With 26 rooms and nearly 7,000 square feet of living space, its enormity should be overwhelming; instead, the custom-built house evokes a sense of tasteful grace, with its patient attention to detail and design. There are cozy hearths and hardwood floors at every turn. The kitchen, nearly the size of a studio apartment, features two islands, granite counters, high-end cabinets and a walk-in pantry.

Dual staircases in the foyer lead upstairs, with a focus on the master suite — a four-room accommodation with bedroom, sitting room with fireplace, private balcony and two en-suite bathrooms. One has a jacuzzi tub; the other, a soaking tub and walk-in shower. The third floor features a nearly 600-square-foot bedroom, with a bath, great for sleepovers for kids.

Aside from the in-ground heated pool, the backyard is a salute to classic brick, from the deck and patio to the detached four-car garage, which has a guest room upstairs. With bath, natch.

Have a news tip? Contact Mike Klingaman at jklingaman@baltsun.com and 410-332-6456.