Infamous America - PATTY HEARST Ep. 2 | “The Ransom”

Episode Date: February 21, 2024

The kidnappers contact Patty Hearst’s family and make a strange and unprecedented demand. The SLA wants the wealthy Hearst family to set up a food distribution program throughout California. The Hearsts quickly organize a program, but it debuts with disastrous results. And the world hears the first communique from Patty Hearst since her abduction. Join Black Barrel+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons:  blackbarrel.supportingcast.fm/join Apple users join Black Barrel+ for ad-free episodes, bingeable seasons and bonus episodes. Click the Black Barrel+ banner on Apple to get started with a 3-day free trial. On YouTube, subscribe to INFAMOUS+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons. Hit “JOIN” on the Infamous America YouTube homepage.  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCm4V_wVD7N1gEB045t7-V0w/featured For more details, please visit www.blackbarrelmedia.com. Our social media pages are: @blackbarrelmedia on Facebook and Instagram, and @bbarrelmedia on Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On the evening of February 4, 1974, a terrorist group calling themselves the Symbionese Liberation Army violently abducted 19-year-old Patricia Hurst, better known as Patty. Two men and one woman from the group forced its way into her Berkeley apartment, beat up her fiance, and fired shots at her neighbors. In just a few minutes, the SLA had bound and gagged Patty and driven away with her in the trunk of a car. In an hour, she was locked in a closet at a safe house in Daly City, California, about 10 miles south of San Francisco.

Hearst figured she was the perfect candidate for a huge ransom. Once this apparent paramilitary group got what they wanted, she'd be set free. What she didn't know was that her kidnapping was the culmination of months of planning by a man named Donald DeFries, and money wasn't his immediate goal. The unstable DeFries had a mile-long criminal record, and he was on the lamb from Soledad Prison. Before he escaped from Soledad in early 1973, he spent time at Vacaville Prison, where he got to know Berkeley student Willie Wolf through a program that mixed activists and inmates. Before long, DeFries, Wolf, and half a dozen other activists formed a bizarre ally ship based on revolutionary doctrine.

Against the backdrop of the San Francisco Bay area, reeling with its anti-Vietnam war sentiment and counterculture violence, DeFries and his acolytes formed the SLA. Their first big crime was the brutal assassination of Oakland School District Superintendent Marcus Foster. They'd hoped it would start a series of some ill-defined rebellions. Instead, everyone denounced it. And so, the SLA turned their attention, to what some South American guerrilla groups had done, which was to kidnap high-profile targets. But before the SLA could put its kidnapping plan into motion,

two members of the group, Joe Romero and Russ Little, got pulled over by a suspicious cop near their safe house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. There was a shootout in which no one was gravely hurt, and Romero and Little were arrested. Inside the van they'd been driving, the police found loads of incriminating evidence,

evidence, including a gun that would be linked to the murder of Marcus Foster. When the rest of the group found out about the arrest, they tried to burn down their safe house, but failed. When the SLA realized a day later that the safe house was still standing, with its mountains of incriminating evidence inside, they knew they'd reached a point of no return. The SLA decided to go forward with plans to create a new world order. To do that, they had to kidnap a high-profile target. And conveniently for them, Patty Hurst lived right down the road near the University of California, Berkeley. In a matter of minutes, the group had grabbed Patty from her apartment, shoved her into a car, then transferred her to another car, and locked her in a

closet in a new safe house. As a few hours turned into a few days, Hurst realized it wasn't money that DeFries and his gang wanted. They wanted attention, and they wanted that new, world order. And they wanted her to be a part of the violence they employed to get it. From Black Barrel Media, this is Infamous America. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer. In this season, we're telling the incredible true story of the kidnapping of Patty Hurst and her possible transformation into a revolutionary of the 1970s. This is episode two, The Ransom. Hurst's first few days in a closet in Daily City were horrifying, to say the least. It was cramped and pitch black inside and locked from the outside. Donald DeFries sat outside the closet door

and introduced himself to Hearst as Sincu. The name was strange, but more strange was how he spoke to her. He told her that she was a prisoner of war of the SLA. She would be held in protective custody according to the rules of the Geneva Convention. He also explained that her kidnapping was one of many that the SLA and its affiliates had done all over California. In fact, its many combat units were raging a revolution around the world. None of it was true, but Hurst had no way of knowing. And then DeFries told her that she was kidnapped because their comrades, meaning Romero and Little, were in prison. Her treatment would mirror theirs.

If they suffered, she would suffer. Hearst had no idea who Romero and Little were, as she tried to make sense of Donald DeFries' meandering diatribes. Among hundreds of other things, he talked about how her family, of what he called capitalist pigs, was going to help them spearhead a revolution. Like pretty much everything else DeFries said, she had no idea what that meant. Her thoughts turned to her fiancé, Stephen Weed, and if her parents knew of her abduction. It took a few hours for long. enforcement to notify Hearst's parents, Randy and Catherine, who were at a fundraiser in Washington, D.C. Soon, news broke that their daughter had been kidnapped by the same terrorist organization

that had murdered Marcus Foster. Police had found the SLA's calling card, cyanide-tipped bullets, in Hearst's apartment. But neither the Hearst family nor the police knew for sure until three days later. Nancy Perry, the group's de facto secretary, typed up a communique after the kidnapping. She mailed it to the local radio station, which took time. The communique was packed with nonsensical military jargon, but it did make a few things very clear. Patty would be kept healthy and safe as long as the press and the Hearst family followed a few rules. Any member of the public or law enforcement who tried to interfere with any SLA operation, whatever those might be, would be shot on site, and so would Patty Hurst.

Also, all communications from the SLA must be printed in full in all newspapers and all other forms of media. But surprisingly, there was no demand for money. That left one action item for the family. Print the communications. In practical terms, that probably wouldn't be a problem. Patty Hurst was the daughter of Randolph Hurst, one of the richest and most powerful media executives in the country, and probably the world. He ran the Hearst Publishing Empire, which owned the San Francisco Examiner newspaper.

If Randy Hurst wanted something printed and then picked up by everyone else, it would happen, especially if it was a story as sensational as the kidnapping. But by doing so, it would be giving in to terrorists and setting a dangerous precedent for future terrorists. For Randy Hurst, the decision was. hard. He and his wife Catherine would do whatever the SLA asked. That was exactly what Donald DeFries was banking on. The problem was, beyond printing the communications, he didn't know what to ask for. Over the days that followed her abduction, Hearst's captors let her have longer and longer periods of time with her closet door open. They fed her and let her bathe, though she had to keep

a filthy blindfold on at all times, and she had to listen to DeFrize. Freese's constant ramblings about revolution. DeFries liked to be the center of all things, but he eventually realized that other SLA members might be better at teasing personal information out of Patty Hurst. He assigned two women, Angela Atwood and Nancy Perry, and one man, Willie Wolf, to start spending time with their captive. They kept Hurst calm and allowed her to listen to some of their conversations.

But all the while, they had no idea what they were going to do with her. or any plan for their end game. Finally, Bill Harris came up with a suggestion about what to do with Patty Hurst. The SLA clearly had a public relations problem. They'd murdered Superintendent Foster, and now they'd kidnapped a member of one of the richest families in America. What if, he said, they could rally public support for the SLA by hijacking a trailer full of frozen turkeys.

Then they could distribute the turkeys to the needy. The group generally liked the idea of redistributing wealth, even if it was only in the form of frozen turkeys. Then Harris developed the idea further. What if the SLA forced Randy Hurst to give away the food? That would then be perceived as a ransom being paid to the poor, and not something that benefited the SLA. That was good, everybody liked it. And there was an added bonus to the idea. The SLA could say that an agreement by the Hearst family to distribute the food would be seen as an offer of good faith for future negotiations. In reality, it was a stall tactic so the SLA could buy time

to figure out how to keep using Patty Hurst. Donald DeFries loved the idea. He recorded a 30-minute message and had it delivered to radio station KPFA on February 12th, eight days after the kidnapping. In the recording, he introduced himself as a representative of black people around the world. He gave himself this title, General Field Marshal in the United Federated Forces of the Symbionese Liberation Army. He lectured the Hearsts about their various business interests.

Then DeFries demanded that the Hearsts provide $70 worth of meats, vegetables, and dairy products to every person in California who was on welfare, receiving Social Security or veterans' benefits, or who could show that they were out of prison on bail. The food had to be distributed in seven of the biggest cities in California, and it had to be available in at least five distribution points in each city. It had to be top quality. The program had to start on February 19th, and it had to last for four weeks. In the history of kidnapper demands, it was right to be up there with the strangest of all time. To the media, the Hearst family and law enforcement, DeFrease's recording was shocking. But the second recording that went with it was really shocking.

It was the voice of Patty Hurst. She began with, Mom, Dad, I'm okay. She went on to say that she wasn't hurt, save for a few scrapes that were healing. She said she had food and she was comfortable. She mentioned she was allowed to hear some press reports and knew that her fiancé Stephen Weed wasn't seriously hurt and neither was anyone else. DeFries had not written an exact script for Hearst, but he definitely gave her bullet points, and one of those was to assure the world and her parents

that the SLA meant business. She said they weren't just a bunch of nuts. They had been honest with her, but were perfectly willing to die for what they were doing. The only way she would get out of there was for the Hearsts to do exactly what they said and do it fast. Patty also mentioned the arrests of Russ Little and Joe Romero several times. The month before, after their shootout with a Concord police officer, evidence in their van linked them to the SLA and the murder of Foster.

They'd both been transferred from local jail to San Quentin State Prison, where they were held on murder charges, and bail had been set at $750,000. Patty said, whatever happened to Little and Romero at San Quentin, that was how she would be treated by the SLA. The implication was clear. Randy Hurst needed to make sure Little and Romero

got all the legal help he could offer, and he had exactly one week to get the SLA's food program going, or his daughter could lose her life. The Hearst Estate in Hillsborough, California, about 20 miles south of San Francisco, was turning into a circus. Charlie Bates became the lead agent for the FBI. He trekked down to the estate every day. A field agent moved in to answer phone calls. A chauffeur's residence was made available for the press.

Several family members rotated in and out of guest rooms, and Hearst's fiancé, Stephen Weed, moved into one of them. The Hursts even welcomed several psychics to give their opinions as to Patty's whereabouts. But when Randy Hurst heard his daughter's voice in that recording on February 12th, he knew what he would have to do to bring her home. He also knew he could not possibly deliver on the SLA's food program, at least not Donald DeFries's idea of it. If the SLA's food program were taken literally, about four million people in California would be eligible. It would cost nearly $400 million, nearly $2 billion in today's dollars. Getting that kind of money and infrastructure together would be impossible even for families

who were wealthier than the Hearst's. Patty's parents decided to hold a press conference in front of their house to respond to their daughter's kidnappers. The first one established a pattern that they and the SLA would use many times over in the next few months. Catherine Hurst, Patty's mother, wore a black dress as if she were in mourning. Randy Hurst decided to play along with DeFries' delusional thinking and talked to the SLA through reporters. For example, he acknowledged that they were following the rules of the Geneva Convention. He hoped that his phrasing was reassuring to both Patty and her kidnappers. Randy was terrified about what he said next, but he felt he had no choice. He said he was

scared because he could not meet their exact demands. He did say that he would come back with what he hoped was an acceptable counteroffer in 24 to 48 hours. Next to him, Catherine Hurst sobbed. As soon as the Hursts went back into their house, Randy realized he had made a big mistake. His choice to counter the offer effectively told the SLA he was open to negotiations. So a couple hours later, he went back to the reporters who were camped out on the lawn of their enormous estate. He said he could not possibly deliver on one of my mom.

mounted to a $400 million program. But he did plan to do everything within his power to provide some kind of program that the SLA envisioned. The next day, a Hearst company employee tracked down a woman named Peggy Mays, who ran a network of food banks in Washington State. Mays flew down to the Hearst Estate with Washington's Secretary of State.

Hurst was impressed with Mays, who also assured him she could stretch a dollar better than anyone. The pair, Mays and the Secretary of State, would organize the food giveaway. And the pressure ramped up when, that same day, February 16th, the radio station released another tape recorded by Patty Hurst. She told her family she was okay, but to do as best they could with the food program and do it quickly. Ironically, the biggest problem was the money.

As crazy as it sounds, Randy Hurst didn't have access to a lot of the family's fortune. Randy's father, William Randolph Hearst, who died in 1951, was always worried that some or all of his five sons might squander family money. So he set up most of the Hurst fortune in trusts that were controlled by outside money managers. To be clear, Randy had access to plenty of luxury and splendor, but he didn't have a lot of cash at his disposal. And even though the SLA, through Patty, acknowledged that he didn't know. need to spend $400 million. The giveaway still required a huge amount of cash. The question was, could he get enough and could he get it in time to make sure nothing happened to Patty? Randy Hurst quickly negotiated with his bankers and secured half a million dollars from cash that

was on hand and a loan against his personal assets. He got another $1.5 million from the William Randolph-Hurst Foundation. Together with Peggy Mays and Sest. Secretary of State Ludlow Kramer, they wrote the framework of a food distribution program called PIN, which stood for people in need. Kramer calculated that $2 million could feed 100,000 people for 12 months. Randy also retained a well-connected San Francisco attorney to represent Little and Romero. The Hearsts announced the developments to reporters and figured the publicity around the food program would appease the kidnappers enough to let Patty go. They had no idea the program would become a magnet for every hustler in Northern California.

Peggy Mays and Ludlow Kramer arranged for the use of an old World War II warehouse close to the modern-day site of the San Francisco Giants baseball park. But before they could accept their first shipment of food, counterculture figures tried to muscle in on the money and the publicity. The first was Reverend Jim Jones, who showed up flanked by two men wearing dark suits and sunglasses. In polite but firm terms, Peggy Mays told Jones to get lost. Five years later, Jim Jones and nearly 1,000 of his followers in the People's Temple cult, died in a mass suicide event in Guyana.

After Peggy Mays denied the good reverend, two high-ranking members of the nation of Islam showed up. They pestered Mays to purchase the food through the nation of Islam, because the group already served as local distributors for other food providers. Then, a 40-something woman showed up and told Mays that she had been sent by God. The quiet, eccentric woman joined the cadre of odd ducks at PIN and kept the books. 19 months later, the woman, Sarah Jane Moore, tried to assassinate President Gerald Ford. In spite of the circus surrounding the PIN program and the strange characters who were drawn to it, Peggy Mays got it off the ground. In a few days, the warehouse filled up with food and teamsters.

Even though the food would be distributed a little later than DeFrease's initial demand, the Hearsts understood that Patty's recording gave them permission to do just the best they could, and they were. distribution was on target to begin on February 22nd, just three days after DeFries' initial deadline. Patty's 20th birthday came and went on February 20th. And then on February 21st, one day before distribution started, Donald DeFries sent a new tape to the radio station. He accused the Hearst Empire of not making a good faith gesture after all. He wanted an additional $4 million for PIN for a total of six million. And, though he didn't use specifics,

he also reminded the Hurst's that their daughter's fate was intertwined with the comfort of Little and Romero at San Quentin. There was nothing the Hurst family could do but launched the food program and hope it would buy them some time to find clues to Patty's location. So far, they had none.

And then, worst of all, the food program was an unmitigated disaster. The PIN program was supposed to start on February 22nd at noon, but by daybreak there were already lines of thousands of people at delivery sites in the Bay Area. Then the delivery trucks were late, which caused the already restless crowds to become even more agitated. And in Oakland, the scenes soon devolved into violence. On the morning of February 22nd, trucks arrived at a popular Muslim bakery whose owner was

friendly with the nation of Islam. Almost 5,000 people were already lined up. They spilled out onto the street, blocking the way of the first truck to arrive. The driver leaned on his horn, which provoked someone in the crowd to throw a bottle through his window. That was all it took for a riot to break out. As more trucks arrived and got stuck in the pile up, people began breaking into them and removing the food and then throwing it out into the crowds, whipping them into even more of a frenzy. Some people beat each other with frozen meat, putting 21 people in the hospital.

Gangs of kids forcibly took boxes away from those who had gotten them peacefully. The trucks were empty in an hour, and thousands of people who had waited patiently never received anything at all. One woman lost an eye when someone threw a rock through her car window. The bakery insisted it had to supply people with food from its own stocks to keep a calm perimeter around its business. The owners made the outrageous claim to the Hursts that they had doled out $160,000 worth of fish and eggs, items they didn't even carry. Still, Randy Hurst paid the business, afraid that any bad blood between the program and the nation of Islam would jeopardize Patty's return.

Randy Hurst had reached his breaking point. He gave the spotlight over to a Hearst Corporation executive who announced that the company would give an additional $4 million to the PIN program, but they demanded Patty's return first. Unsure about what to do with the information, DeFries and the SLA went quiet for a couple weeks. While the Hursts waited for a response, they had to deal with a problem at home. Stephen Weed, Patty's fiancé, lived with the Hearst family,

but he frequently threw the Hearst's under the bus in the press. Stephen Weed had never been their favorite choice for their daughter. He had started a relationship with her when he was a 23-year-old tutor, and she was just 16. They felt he was a know-it-all who spoke down to her, and that the engagement was more out of convenience than true love. But setting aside all of their shared history up to that point, Weed was doing nothing but antagonizing them now. He often sat with his feet up on their dining room table,

on the phone with reporters or law enforcement or friends. He wanted to be a conduit between the SLA and the Hearsts, but he wasn't really part of either world. The FBI didn't like him either, feeling that he might be holding back information about the kidnapping. In his quest for attention, Weed did an interview with a local TV station. Though he was living under their roof and was engaged to their daughter,

Weed made disparaging comments about Catherine and Randy Hurst, perhaps in a ham-fisted attempt to make himself seem anti-establishment. Weed also made comments about the FBI, insinuating that Charlie Bates, the agent in charge, didn't do much except drink with the Hursts. Weed said the SLA would be wrong to trust the FBI, which only served to cut off the potential threat of trust between them and the kidnappers. And then, unbelievably, he made backhanded compliments about Patty

and also insulted her. Finally, when the interviewer asked if he'd trade places with Patty, he waffled. The Hursts watched the show and were understandably furious. From the confines of a messy apartment in Daily City, Patty Hurst watched too. She'd been with her captors for about a month now. Though they'd given her a measure of freedom, they'd also demanded that she acted as though she was one of them. At her trial later, Hurst testified that both Willie Wolf and Donald DeFries raped her. And as the weeks wore on, Hurst believed that the only way she would ever leave the apartment was to convince the group that she wanted to be a full-fledged member of the SLA. And that was when Patty Hurst went from college student to

kidnapped victim to bank robber. Next time on Infamous America, it's the transformation of Patty Hurst, from a wealthy college student to a violent revolutionary. Or at least, that's what it looks like on the surface. The world will soon see images of Patty Hurst carrying a semi-automatic rifle during a bank robbery, and no one will know what to think. Members of our Black Barrel Plus program don't have to wait week to week for new episodes. They receive the entire season to binge all at once, no commercials and they also receive exclusive bonus episodes. Sign up now through the link in the

show notes or on our website, blackbarrelmedia.com. Memberships are just $5 per month. This series was researched and written by Julia Brickland. Original music by Rob Valier. I'm your host and producer, Chris Wimmer. Find us at our website, blackbarrelmedia.com or on our social media channels. We're Black Barrel Media on Facebook and Instagram and B-Barrel Media on Twitter. And you can stream all our episodes on YouTube. Just search for Infamous America podcast. Thanks for listening.