From Colorado College's 1912 yearbook.

This crystal ball is seemingly predicting several possible ethnic identites for this graduate.  From Centenary's 1924 yearbook.

Two spirit doubles but no body.  It's his official yearbook portrait, from Emerson's 1985 yearbook.

Are books actually the same as beer?  Consider: "Pouring knowledge into yourself from the books like beer into a big mug until you were saturated, brimming" (Engineering and Science magazine, 1950), and "Books, like beer, have gone up in price but down in quality" (The American Oxonian, 1968).

Is that a precursor to Spongebob?  From Wesleyan College's 1967 yearbook.

"There are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.  Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers that there is in it after all, a place for the genuine." —Marianne Moore

From Salem's 1974 yearbook.

From Colorado College's 1935 yearbook.

From the Wofford College yearbook, 1904.

He's still waiting for you to give his book back.  To date, he's been waiting:

From Centenary's 1924 yearbook.

The what and whyfor of these highly occult abominations are explained very thoroughly in How to Hoodoo Hack a Yearbook. 

From Susquehanna's 1901 yearbook.

Twenty of their faces are more than partially obscured.  Our guess is that it took so long to set up the shot that nobody even cared at that point.  From West Tennessee State Normal School's 1923 yearbook.

Reblog if you may and may not desire and control.  From Emerson's 1946 yearbook.

A mysterious disguise from Washington & Lee's 1966 yearbook.

Here's one of the living dead graduates in Saint Leo's 1972 yearbook.  See How to Hoodoo Hack a Yearbook.

You already noticed that five of their heads are remarkably too small, and more than those have been pasted onto other bodies.  What's also peculiar is that only one runner, L. E. McKibben, was unable to be present when the photo was taken.  From Oberlain's 1923 yearbook.

"There are ships that come in and ships that go out with colors flying gay, but best of all is friend ship for it never goes away."  From Colorado College's 1933 yearbook.

Always dress like you're going somewhere better later (a tip we learned from our dearly departed magic teacher, Eugene Burger).  From Salem's 1989 yearbook.

"I died."  From Greenboro's 1995 yearbook.

Here's a precursor to The King of Nothing (of which nothing is known but that he is king).  From West Tennessee State Normal School's 1923 yearbook.