Scott Muni, Hostage Negotiator

In 1975, a gunman holding hostages called veteran FM disc jockey Scott Muni on the air. How did he handle the situation?

by Rich Watson 

Scott Muni was an institution in rock and roll radio. He was there when the Beatles arrived in America. He was one of the first “progressive rock” New York deejays, favoring long-form album tracks over singles. And he was the heart of one of the best-known “classic rock” radio stations in history.

One thing he isn’t as remembered for, though, is the time in 1975 when he was forced to negotiate on the air for the lives of hostages, held by a fan.

Scott Muni’s early career

The former Donald Allen Muñoz started out in the Marines in the early fifties. Broadcasting from New Orleans, he read “Dear John” letters over Radio Guam. He worked in New Orleans radio awhile longer, then in Ohio and Illinois radio and TV.

Muni first came to New York in 1958. He joined the Top 40 station WMCA for a stint, home of the famed “Good Guys” lineup of disc jockeys. 

Two years later, he moved to WABC and became one of the “Swingin’ 7.” He briefly hosted a TV show on WABC-TV with “Cousin Brucie” Morrow. 

Muni moved to FM radio with WOR in 1966 for a year and then joined WNEW-FM in 1967.

WNEW-FM: the place where rock lived

In October 1967, WNEW adopted the progressive rock format. 

For several months before that, the station had experimented with a lineup of all-women deejays. The only one to survive the switch in October was Alison Steele. She succeeded with the new WNEW, which featured male and female deejays.

I listened to WNEW throughout high school, in the mid-to-late eighties. I remember Muni well. He always seemed to be at the center of any rock-related activity in New York. He, more than any of the other jocks, symbolized the station and what it stood for. Listening to him, you knew he respected the music and those who listened to it.

To be honest, he wasn’t my favorite deejay, but I appreciated his musical knowledge. They didn’t call him “the Professor” for nothing. It’s safe to say he helped shape my own tastes in music.

On October 6, 1975, the WNEW news department told Muni, who was on the air, someone was holding up a bank and wanted to talk to him. This was a young man named Ray Olson, a.k.a. “Cat.”

Cat Olson’s bank holdup attempt

Bankers Trust Bank was on Sixth Avenue in Greenwich Village, in Manhattan. According to reports, Olson simply walked inside with an armed rifle and a pistol, claiming he represented the Symbionese Liberation Army, a radical revolutionary group out of Berkeley, California. 

They gained notoriety when they kidnapped University of California-Berkeley student Patty Hearst, the granddaughter of publisher William Randolph Hearst. She went from victim to participant in the group’s activities. Earlier that year, the SLA had been captured.

At around three PM, Olson took ten people hostage. He demanded the SLA’s release in exchange for the hostages’ lives, plus $10 million in gold. A passerby saw what went on and dialed 911. 

Police established telephone connections to the bank. The media also spoke to Olson.

In talking to him, the police discovered he was not part of the SLA. Basically, he held up the bank for kicks. The movie Dog Day Afternoon came out earlier that year; some believe it inspired Olson’s actions. (There was even a passing reference to WNEW within the film.) 

Olson claimed he was broke, a derelict panhandler. “When I get broke I do crazy things,” he said. 

Muni’s rapport with Olson

Olson was a fan of WNEW and Muni. He had a radio with him. He called the station during Muni’s afternoon shift to request Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan music—three hours worth. 

Muni did his best to advise him:

MUNI: I know you’re having a problem right now.

OLSON: Yeah, it’s kind of a drag, you know? But you know, I’ve gone this far and here I am and I can’t get out.[…]

MUNI: You a local guy?

OLSON: Yeah, I am, as a matter of fact.

MUNI: Okay, then I can talk to you one on one, right?

OLSON: Yeah, for sure.

MUNI: Which is what I really want to do.

In talking to Olson, Muni didn’t think he was violent, just what he later characterized as “a lost soul.” He knew, however, he had to convince Olson to surrender. He began by playing the Dylan and Dead songs. 

All of New York tuned to the radio as the situation unfolded. Spectators who had heard of the possible SLA connection gathered around the bank, held back by the cops. Snipers perched on the rooftops surrounding the bank.

Muni told Olson he believed he would be alright as long as he didn’t hurt anyone. No one was hurt, but he thought the police didn’t cooperate with him despite releasing three hostages as a show of good faith. He thought their “sharpshooters” would kill him. 

At one point Olson wanted to speak to soul singer James Brown. He was in Los Angeles, to appear on The Tonight Show. He offered to fly in to help, but in the end he wasn’t needed. 

Face to face meeting?

Muni offered to come to the bank in person to chat. Olson agreed. When the feds escorted him from the radio station to the bank, the local cops didn’t allow a discussion. Instead, he was sent in with sandwiches and drugged beer, meant to pacify Olson. 

He wanted to make a statement on the radio. According to this blogger, when he got his chance, he did little more than praise Jerry Garcia and the Dead.

Around eleven PM, Olson released the remaining hostages and surrendered. (He made sure to thank the Dead before the cops hauled him away.) He never collected any money. He did go to prison, without a trial, for five years. During that time, he corresponded with Muni.

This BBC podcast discusses the situation in greater detail, including interviews with Muni, police negotiator Frank Bolz, and others.

Muni in later years 

WNEW went through various format changes through the years. In 1998 they catered to a more modern audience with more modern rock music and “shock jocks.” Muni was fired after over thirty years at the station. He moved to WNEW’s spiritual successor in New York, WAXQ, until his death in 2004. 

As a deejay, he was widely acknowledged as a major influence in rock and roll radio and a legend.

After the Cat Olson incident, he was also hailed as a hero.

@byrichwatson

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Were you listening to Scott Muni during Cat Olson’s holdup attempt?