The Kidnapping

Michael Coats was still working with his public relations company, Glodow, Coats and Nead, when they landed the Virgin Atlantic Airlines account. Richard Branson was launching the first direct flight from London to San Francisco, and they were responsible for the publicity.

Michael told me that there was already plenty of interest, particularly in the business arena, but they were looking for something that would carry over into a broader news spectrum, and they were hoping I could come up with something to help. They explained the details of the trip. Branson had filled that inaugural flight exclusively with reporters and travel writers from all over Europe. Once they arrived in San Francisco, Branson was hosting all the guests to five days in San Francisco, showing them all the Bay Area could offer. One day was scheduled as a Wine Country visit, to be hosted by Anthony Dias Blue. I looked at the schedule and saw that they were only visiting wineries in Napa.

“Well, hell, that’s not right,” I told Coats. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

When the day approached, I got on board one of the two buses disguised as a local reporter, using my Jake Lorenzo alias. We visited several prestigious Napa wineries, had a posh lunch at a well-known restaurant, and ended the tour at Domaine Carneros with its pretentious French chateau sensibility inappropriately plopped on a hill in Carneros. After sipping sparkling wine and listening to an elaborate technical presentation from the winemaker, we all boarded the buses for the return trip to San Francisco.

With a collaborator, I boarded the lead bus, the one with Richard Branson, and looked carefully around the bus trying to locate bodyguards. Despite assurances from Coats, I couldn’t believe that Branson travelled without armed protectors. As the bus left Domaine Carneros, I reached into my bag and pulled out my mask and black velvet cape. I put them on while my partner passed up and down the aisle distributing a leaflet describing what we were about.

I stood in the aisle, right behind the driver and explained in my loudest voice that the passengers had been seduced by the pretension in Napa Valley, that the California wine business wasn’t really like that, and as a member of the Sonoma Valley Wine Patrol I was officially commandeering the bus to take them to Sonoma where they would participate in a cleansing ceremony that would wash away the pomposity of Napa Valley allowing them once again to enjoy the pleasures of fine wine.

At that exact moment, just as we crossed over the Napa/Sonoma County line, a helicopter dropped down out of the sky to the eye level of the bus driver and proceeded to fly backward through the sky. The pilot and passenger, Jim McCullough, wore masks and black capes. Like something out of a war movie, we moved along the highway at 60 miles per hour staring into the cockpit of that helicopter as it flew backwards leading us into Sonoma.

Then as we came down the hill into Sonoma County, caped, masked cohorts on horseback, motorcycles and jeeps formed an escort and led the buses to Gundlach Bundschu winery. The mood in the bus went from nervous terror to shouted delight and I started to relax once I realized I wasn’t going to be shot by some overzealous bodyguard. Only then did I realize that the wine patrollers teetering from their jeeps and galloping on their horses looked pretty drunk. Turns out the Bundschus had hosted lunch, and everyone had been drinking for hours.

We turned onto the Gundlach Bundschu winery property where the road through the vineyard was lined with hundreds of local people cheering and holding signs proclaiming, “Welcome to Sonoma.” We parked the buses on the plateau by the tank farm and had them exit the buses as the helicopter landed in front of them. Locals presented them with Sonoma Valley blue stemmed glassware filled with wine and we escorted our charges down to the front of the winery, where Jim Bundschu welcomed them and reiterated how their Napa experience would foul their appreciation of wine unless they went through a cleansing ceremony.

He led them through our barrel cave and out back. Stretched out before our guests was 100 acres of pristine vineyard, with nary a house in sight. It looked much like it must have appeared to our ancestors, more than 100 years earlier, when they planted Rhinefarm. We had an old claw-foot bathtub set up with a young man and young woman dressed in togas stomping on grapes. As the juice dripped out of the bathtub drain, we pretended to collect it in carafes, while dozens of other people with carafes worked among the crowd pouring delicious Gundlach Bundschu wine.

We made an announcement that by drinking this wine, they would rid themselves of the snobby pretentiousness of Napa winemaking and once again enjoy the pleasures of drinking fine wine. Everyone loved it. Richard Branson brought over a couple and introduced them to me as his parents. They hugged me and thanked me for a delightful afternoon.

As they finally returned to the buses for their trip back to San Francisco, we gave each passenger a blue-stemmed wine glass and put a case of wine on each bus for them to enjoy on the ride back. Coats was beside himself. “That could be the greatest thing I have ever seen,” he shouted. “They loved it. This will be in every newspaper and on every television newscast in Europe.”

Unfortunately, a few hours later it was announced that Jacquelyn Kennedy Onassis had died. Not a single word of the event reached Europe, or America for that matter. Luckily, even though we had kidnapped 70 European writers along with a billionaire, I also invited Tim Tesconi to the kidnapping. As far as I know, Tim’s story was the only one published about the event. but kidnapping Richard Branson remains one of the best organized, most exciting, entertaining stunts we ever pulled, made all the better because so few people found out about it, although to this day Richard Branson often tells people how much he enjoys Sonoma Wine Country.

Addendum

The verbatim copy of what we passed out on the bus during the kidnapping.

TAKE IT EASY.

DON’T GET QUESY.

Ladies and Gentlemen:

Welcome to Sonoma Valley. Please do not be alarmed. We are members of the Sonoma Valley Wine Patrol. The Wine Patrol is a non-violent, paramilitary organization empowered to take immediate action as deemed necessary in the event of any wine crime.

Unwittingly, you have been exposed to the devious and treacherous mind control techniques of the dreaded Naphonies. Naphonies are people who live in the other valley, the one that is not Sonoma Valley. Naphonies are identified by the expensive cars they drive and their punctilious, pompous attitudes about wine. They seduce people into thinking they are simple farmers, as they show you through their multi-million dollar palaces filled with high art. They act charming and dignified and never blink when they tell you that a bottle of their wine sells for upwards of $40. Their goal is to take over your thought process until the wines you drink offer no joy, pleasure, or magic.

Not to worry. The Sonoma Valley Wine Patro is here to rescue you from the evil Naphonies. We have commandeered your bus and are headed to a sacred Sonoma Valley location featuring one of the oldest vineyards in California. Once we arrive, we will put you through a simple, formal ceremony to free you of the evil mind control of the Naphonies. You will then be able to proceed on your journey, and you will once again be able to savor the joy and magic found in a great bottle of wine.

I repeat, you are in no danger. Please sit back and enjoy the ride. We in the Sonoma Valley Wine patrol are at your service.