Every yearbook has a burning building.  Late night parties, incense, funny cigarettes, insurance fraud?  From Lehigh's 1942 yearbook.

We almost didn't notice the cat staring through the decades, at the bottom left of the photo.  It sees you through the mists of the time, and (in the enlargement) you can tell by the look on its face that it understands something about you that no one else does.  From Worcester Polytechnic's 1971 yearbook.

This photograph may be used to help get you on the other side of the emergency.  From the Boston State College yearbook of 1971.

We analyzed this photo with our custom Uncanny Detector app and confirmed our suspicion that a second full moon is glowing from within the building.  From Kent State's 1954 yearbook.

From the University of Nebraska's 1974 yearbook.

Though this photograph may induce out-of-body experiences, be wary of trying any of the side doors.  From Elizabethtown's 1971 yearbook.

This photograph may be used to trigger a flash of insight. From the Evansville yearbook of 1982.

So few faces in yearbooks are even real.  From the Mississippi Delta Junior College yearbook of 1976.

In the ghost-hunting community, this mournful spirit is known as "Our Lady of the Spoons of Damocles."  From UNC Chapel Hill's 1970 yearbook.

We checked, and it turns out to be true -- happiness is, indeed, an overhead projector, and as this technology becomes increasingly obsolete, sadness spreads across the globe.  From Wake Forest's 1975 yearbook.

This photograph may be used for recalling a forgotten memory.  From Virginia Commonwealth University's 1970 yearbook.

"Victory Over Death" -- the most popular elective class after Music Appreciation.  From East Carolina's 1942 yearbook.

We get this sun where we live, too.  A parasol isn't even optional.  From Elizabethtown's 1971 yearbook.

This photograph may be used to facilitate time travel.  From Southwestern's 1971 yearbook.

This detail of a photograph from a Philadelphia yearbook, 1968, may assist with time travel. 

We actually don't mind diluted water, having developed a taste for it on skid row.  From Elizabethtown's 1971 yearbook.

From Elizabethtown's 1971 yearbook.

Anything we say about this photo will constitute slander, and we don't need smiling m*niacs coming after us with axes, gas cans, and a hatred of culture.  From Washington & Lee's 1980 yearbook.

Wondering if this was an accidental skull-face effect, we analyzed the photo with our custom Uncanny Detector app.  Sure enough, she really did have a skull face.  From Queens College's 1973 yearbook.