Here's my story.
Three of us were out in the sticks along a dirt road siding a big field shooting hand thrown clay pigeons with a 12. (no drinking) (the road was the shooting line)
I'd already shot and thrown, so I was down the road a bit watching. Using a hand thrower is a bit of an art, and the guy throwing kind of got it sideways, and then the wind picked it up and sent it back my way. In slow motion I watched the barrel go up, then over, then follow the pigeon right down on me.
I screamed bloody murder (DON'T SHOOT @#$%^!!), and dove flat in the muddy water ditch along the road, face down. He didn't shoot, and everyone but me though it was hilarious.
Something had been sh!tting in that ditch for many years. And there were no spare clothes.
Ever since that day, I only stand behind other people shooting. And if they are rookies, close enough to catch their arm if they turn around to sweep me. Which I have done, a number of times.
Damn Jess, that would scare the hell out of anyone.