I agree, Mr. Atkinson: beware!
As a kid in Minnesota I remember my Mom cooking up big iron frying pans of morels in bacon grease. SO good! Then one time Dad got sick as a dog. Now, mind you, my Dad was a tough, hard working farmer's son, he powered through just about everything without a complaint, including a bout with Asian Flu and a case of Scarlet Fever, but I'll never forget his words regarding the mushrooms: "Well, they won't kill you but they'll sure make you wish they had!"
All I knew was one kind had a hollow stem and one had a solid stem and you had better darned well check each and every one. And then go back and check them again.
Now that I think about it I seem to recall herds of people descending on Tok to pick mushrooms where there was a huge forest fire a few years back.