1. I was at the local range one night, teaching one of my female friends how to shoot a 10/22. We were having a grand old time, and she was outshooting everyone except for the competition shooters who were practicing. I was quite impressed. Anyway, a 40-something man and his son arrive on the range and at the ceasefire take their targets (which are clothespinned to cardboard backing) downrange. They decide to only put up one of the targets, and so they set the other target down, then return. Well, it turns out that they placed the target one one of the lamps illuminating the firing line (the range is open from 7-10pm, and so uses artificial lights). The 100W floodlamp burned a hole through the cardboard and set the cardboard alight. Since the lamps and this particular target were lying behind the metal shield used to protect the lights, it wasn't immediately obvious until I smelled something burning (I didn't see the flames at first, as I was observing my friend's technique). I looked around, saw the smoke and flames, immediately yelled "CEASE FIRE!" and ran to the RSO booth. I quickly explained that there was a fire on the range, that they should immediately call a ceasefire for the whole range (there's two "wings" to the range on either side of the central booth), and once the side with the fire was clear I would go downrange with the fire extinguisher (the RSOs were elderly chaps, and not very quick on their feet) to put out the fire.
Everyone was confused when they heard "Cease fire! There's a fire on the range. Fire! Cease fire! Fire! Cease fire!" over the loudspeakers. Eventually, the shooters understood, and all was made safe. I ran downrange with the extinguisher, only to be beaten by the man and his son, who stomped up and down on the flaming cardboard to extinguish it. Fortunately, no damage was done to the range. The RSO spoke quietly and privately to the man, understood what caused the fire, and graciously allowed the man to shoot as it was his son's first time out. The remainder of the evening was completely safe and excitement-free.
2. My Class III dealer friend and I were in the Coronado National Forest
shooting machineguns (I'm the one in the green shirt and ballcap, my dealer's the skinny guy with the green shirt, and our Class II manufacturer friend [who later left, but is the owner of several M16s and the auto-switch for the Glock] is in the white shirt). We shooting both suppressed and unsuppressed M16s and Uzis, suppressed 10/22s (including an 8" barreled "pocket rifle" 10/22 with a suppressor attached), and unsuppressed semi-auto pistols.
When we were pretty much done for the day, a National Forest Ranger pulls up. Before she stopped her vehicle, we had rendered the guns safe, left the actions open, placed them in the bed of the pickup truck, stepped away from the truck with our hands in plain view, and awaited instruction. She was very friendly, chatted for a few minutes, asked about the machineguns (which we offered to let her shoot, but she declined as she had to get back to patrolling -- she was the only one on duty that day in the whole forest), and gave us some Smokey The Bear keychains.
Ok, nothing stupid quite yet. After she left, we picked up our brass and headed toward the road out of the forest. We were curious how far away she heard to automatic fire, so when we saw her vehicle stop at another shooty area, we pulled off to the side so we could ask her once she was done. The knuckleheads who were shooting didn't pay attention to her vehicle, and finally noticed her when she yelled "HEY!" at them. The three of them, all armed with rifles and holstered pistols, turn towards her and start walking casually toward her with their rifles still in their hands (though not aiming at her). Her hand went for her sidearm but didn't draw. She barked for them to safe their weapons, place them in the trunk of their car, and then approach so she could speak to them. Definitely not the right way for them to approach a police officer.
Anyway, we found out that you can hear automatic, unsuppressed M16s firing from about half a mile away with the windows closed on a vehicle bouncing on a dirt road.