Mine was the accident that never happened.

I was about 14, hunting at a family friend/farmer's property outside of town, back in the late 80s when doe days were only about two weeks of the season. I had never killed a deer despite hunting since I was young, and killing any legal deer would have been an accomplishment for me, and I'd hunted this property outside of doe days and knew there were lots of does that came out just before dark. I was hunting a large area of sage/field with woods along one side, with the road running along the woods' edge. Just before shooting light ended, a deer stepped out of the woods into the road about 200 yards away. I shouldered my rifle and put the deer in the crosshairs.

The "deer" was the teenage son of the farmer, he was wearing zero orange and was decked out in a buff-colored jacket and pants. He had walked down the road to come get me, and he was hidden in the shadow of the woods until he stepped out into the road as he got closer to the stand.

I lowered my rifle. While I never took the rifle off safe or put my finger on the trigger, I felt like I was about to faint from the fact I'd put my crosshairs on him thinking it was a deer.

I've told that story to my kids more than once, and I remind my son about it every season, even though we are still hunting out of the same stand for now.