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Patty had changed during her hegira. Not only had her long dark-blonde hair been cut shorter and dyed red but she had lost her healthy, cover-girl looks. Her face was noticeably drawn. But she did not look or act like a victim who had been forced by her abductors to rob a bank and denounce her grieving parents and her fiance as "pigs" and "clowns." She was as casual as if she had dropped by to answer a traffic summons. She was wearing stained rubber clogs and dark brown cotton pants, and beneath her striped, long-sleeved jersey she was braless. Throughout the proceedings, she nonchalantly smiled and chewed gum.
Standing before Woodruff, Patty lowered her voice to almost a whisper as she gave her age—21—and acknowledged her name, not mentioning the revolutionary name of Tania that she had adopted while on the run. She was then arraigned on charges of armed bank robbery and violation of the Federal Firearms Act. Armed bank robbery carries a maximum 25-year sentence and is only one of 22 federal and state charges that she faces; they could jail her for life. Her bail was set at $1.5 million. At one point Patty Hearst stood erect, tightly clenched her small right fist and flourished it aloft remorselessly in the salute of the social revolutionary.
Next, Patty's friends Bill and Emily Harris went before Woodruff. As Harris entered the courtroom, he scanned the expectant audience and cried out, "What do you say, comrades? Keep on trucking!" Then he lifted his left hand in a clenched-fist salute. The Harrises were arraigned on charges of illegal possession of arms; bail was set at $550,000 for each. As he was led from the courtroom by two U.S. marshals, Harris raised his right arm, his fist a hard ball, and announced loudly, "This ain't no big deal, comrades. Long live the guerrillas!"
The Harrises and Patty Hearst were sent to the San Mateo jail, 30 miles to the south. As they were being driven away, Emily Harris raised her own clenched fist to newsmen, and Patty grinned broadly.
At the San Mateo jail, Patty listed her occupation as "urban guerrilla." Her lawyer, Terence Hallinan, told newsmen that she had asked him to relay a message to the public: "Tell everybody that I'm smiling, that I feel free and strong and I send my greetings and love to all the sisters and brothers out there."
At the jail where she was quartered alone in a 7-ft. by 9-ft. cell containing a double-bunk bed, Patty Hearst was equally truculent. One temporary jail-mate who had a brief chance to talk to the new prisoner was Evelyn Broussard. After being released, Broussard said she had told Patty, "It's been a long time since we've seen you." Her answer, according to Broussard: "I wish it had been longer." Broussard asked Patty how she had been caught, and said that she had answered: "I wish to hell I knew."
Although Patty did not ask to see her parents, she agreed to their request for a meeting. They were already hurrying to San Francisco, her father from New York City (where he had been on business for the Hearst Corp., the publishing company of which he is chairman), and her mother from Los Angeles (where she had been attending a meeting of the regents of the University of California).