OK, so here's the story...
I got into the rocket hobby in the early 80s, through a friend from Boy Scouts, whose dad (also our Scoutmaster) got him going. Back before the internet (and before I had a driver's license), our access to rockets was primarily through mail-order catalogs, at least for the model kits. I could buy engines at a mall toy store (K-B Toys, IIRC), but they had an extremely limited assortment of rocket models.
Anyway, I was always a rule-follower (my friend and I both became Eagle Scouts at the same time, within a year or two after this episode), and somewhere along the line, I learned that I needed a permit (maybe just to buy engines without an adult?) in RI.
The permit process went through my town's Fire Department. On the application, I had to list specifically where I planned to fly the rockets. Pretty much any park in town was OK, plus the fields at local schools. In reality, only a handful were big enough, without being surrounded by forests, to be able to fly and actually RECOVER a rocket.
So, with permit in my wallet, and maybe a year's worth of buying, building and flying without issues or complaints, I decided that my next science project would involve model rockets. Created a few different fin designs, used the same body, nose cones, engines, etc. and tried to differentiate which was the better fin design...
Got all of the rockets built, and carried all of the stuff to the local high school on our bikes. Not OUR high school, mind you, as we went to a private high school further away, in the next city over (beyond reasonable biking distance, especially given the hill involved, while carrying a ton of rocket-launching gear).
Wearing our "visitor" school jackets, we stuck out like two sore thumbs, running up and down the athletic fields, launching and chasing my rockets.
After around 45 minutes of this, we hear someone yelling at us from the other side of the chain link fence near the street. Turned out to be a police officer.
Assuming he was questioning our rocket-launching-approval status, I pulled the permit out of my wallet and gave it to him. He stared at it, but couldn't make any sense of it.
He had us climb over the fence, get into the back of the squad car, and started asking us all sorts of ID questions. We were probably around 14-15 at the time, so we didn't have any IDs, other than school IDs (maybe).
After sitting there for 20-30 minutes, he let us go.
Apparently, someone had broken into the computer lab at the high school we were visiting, setting off an alarm that called the police; and when he pulled up, he saw two yahoos running away from the building (us idiots, blissfully unaware of what was happening, just chasing a rocket)...
To this day, I don't think that permit was worth the paper it was written on.
Mike