And so the NoZe Brothers would perform "Christian" songs like "Rock Around the Cross"; they’d parade around campus carrying a giant picture of Anita Bryant with a large hole cut out of her mouth after the former beauty queen proclaimed oral sex sinful; and they’d run ads for a Waco strip club on the back page of The Rope. In 1978, the Baylor administration became so fed up with the NoZe that it suspended the group from campus for being, in the words of Baylor’s president at the time, "lewd, crude, and grossly sacrilegious." During Paul’s three years at Baylor, according to former NoZe Brothers, if the administration discovered a student was a member of the NoZe, the punishment was automatic expulsion.

A photo of a few of the NoZe Brothers published in a 1983 issue of The Rope. Rand Paul is dressed in a black robe and straw hat.

So far as anyone knows, Paul’s membership in the NoZe was never found out by Baylor higher-ups and, despite rumors to the contrary floating around Kentucky, his early departure from the university was of his own accord. "From the Fall of ’81 to the Spring of ’86, no one got expelled," says Green. "We came close a couple times, but they never actually laid a hand on us or threw anybody out." But Paul certainly seems to have done enough stuff at Baylor that, had the university ever known about it, he would have gotten the boot. Green vaguely recalls one late-night prank, undertaken by Paul and another NoZe brother after a few too many beers, to dig up a time capsule buried in 1945 in the center of the school’s campus; all they ended up doing was knocking over the monument that sat atop the time capsule.

The strangest episode of Paul’s time at Baylor occurred one afternoon in 1983 (although memories about all of these events are understandably a bit hazy, so the date might be slightly off), when he and a NoZe brother paid a visit to a female student who was one of Paul’s teammates on the Baylor swim team. According to this woman, who requested anonymity because of her current job as a clinical psychologist, "He and Randy came to my house, they knocked on my door, and then they blindfolded me, tied me up, and put me in their car. They took me to their apartment and tried to force me to take bong hits. They’d been smoking pot." After the woman refused to smoke with them, Paul and his friend put her back in their car and drove to the countryside outside of Waco, where they stopped near a creek. "They told me their god was ’Aqua Buddha’ and that I needed to bow down and worship him," the woman recalls. "They blindfolded me and made me bow down to ’Aqua Buddha’ in the creek. I had to say, ’I worship you Aqua Buddha, I worship you.’ At Baylor, there were people actively going around trying to save you and we had to go to chapel, so worshiping idols was a big no-no."

Nearly 30 years later, the woman is still trying to make sense of that afternoon. "They never hurt me, they never did anything wrong, but the whole thing was kind of sadistic. They were messing with my mind. It was some kind of joke." She hadn’t actually realized that Paul wound up leaving Baylor early. "I just know I never saw Randy after that—for understandable reasons, I think."

When I asked Benton late last week if Paul remembered any of these episodes from his Baylor days, he replied in an email: "During his time at Baylor, Dr. Paul competed on the swim team and was an active member of Young Conservatives of Texas."

—Jason Zengerle