A Super Bowl Sunday event that took place 31 years ago and involved the abduction of half a dozen hostages, threats at gunpoint, evasive driving, hordes of police and an attempted suicide, has made indelible impressions on the lives of several of those involved in it.

The man who abducted, respectively, a rookie state policeman; a family of four, with a baby on the way; a farmer and his teenaged daughter; and a cab driver, survived the self-inflicted gunshot wound, spent years in prison and later died of natural causes.

The kidnapper, John Doyle Burton, was 42 in 1976, working as a trusty at the New Mexico Boys School in Springer. He’d pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in 1957, and because of his woodworking skills, was allowed to instruct youths at the Springer facility.

Escorted by guards, Burton often visited the 750-acre farm owned by my father-in-law, Stanley E. Coppock, northeast of Springer. Coppock, now 90, had allowed supervised inmates to fish in his pond, and as a switchboard operator at the school, he got to know Burton.

Few people have explanations for what started the kidnapping spree the day before the Super Bowl. My sister-in-law, Beth Coppock Rose, interviewed recently, has vivid recollections of the event. As the then-17-year-old daughter of S.E. Coppock, she recalled Burton complaining that the state of New Mexico refused to allow him to keep all the profits from wooden objects he carved. “He told us he was upset; he wanted it all,” she said.

Newspaper reports show that Burton stole a car containing pistols from the parking lot at the school. Later, he was pulled over by a state policeman.

But Burton abducted him and forced him to drive out of town. They pulled over a vehicle being driven by Max Ramirez of Springer, who was traveling with his wife Eva, seven months pregnant, and their two children.

A complicated series of events ultimately resulted in the release of the family and the policeman, with Burton fleeing on foot.

Familiar with the Coppock Farm, affectionately called “Cockleburr Ranch,” Burton made his way along a canal that runs through the farm and spent the night in the Coppock’s barn. Stanley rose Sunday morning to milk the family cow. “He was waiting for me in the milk room,” Coppock said.

News of Burton’s spree led off the evening news on all Albuquerque TV stations. Stanley, on evening duty at the boys school switchboard, was among the first to learn of Burton’s escape.

Stanley said he’d just finished milking the cow when he saw Burton standing over him aiming his gun. The irony of the abduction still amazes Stanley, who said that on the one hand, Burton warned of the damage a revolver with hollow-point bullets could do; but yet, he referred to his victim as “Mr. Coppock,” politely asked Beth to feed him breakfast, paid for the gas on the 500-plus-mile trip and was otherwise courteous.

One thing stood out, said Beth: “We would strain the milk through a cloth after milking, and it usually takes three hands. I was surprised that Mr. Burton, while still holding the gun, helped me hold the towel in place.”

Burton’s plan was for the Coppocks to drive him to Las Vegas, where he would leave them tied up in a motel room. He’d selected a rope from the barn. Stanley tried to persuade Burton simply to “steal” his pickup, but Burton said he needed hostages. Then Burton decided on a circuitous route: they’d travel to Albuquerque through back roads, Abbot, Logan and other eastern New Mexico towns.

Beth recalls that as they headed east of Springer, they saw friend and fellow church member Fred Macaron driving toward them and waving. Beth mentioned that Burton would put on Coppock’s hat and duck down when they met traffic.

En route to Albuquerque via secondary roads, Burton ordered Stanley to pull over to a country bar for a drink. However, in 1976, liquor sales on Sundays were illegal. Beth considers that a blessing, as Burton may have become more dangerous if intoxicated.

Around that time, Stanley said, Burton told him and Beth, “The cops may get me but I’ll take two or three of them with me.” And Burton emphasized that his hostages were not “to make any strange moves, no funny signals or anything.”

As they arrived in Albuquerque, Burton gave Beth money to buy clothes for him at the Penney’s store at Winrock. With the gun aimed at them, he had them exit the pickup while he changed clothes.

The promise he exacted from them before he agreed to leave was not to notify police until they arrived home. “You have my word. But what if the police stop me? I’m not a very good liar,” Stanley said.

Burton apparently said that would be all right, provided Stanley didn’t drive recklessly and try to draw attention. Burton hopped out of the pickup near Eubank and waved good-bye.

Soon after, Stanley located a phone in the community of Algodones to call his wife Velma in Springer. Unfortunately, all he was able to tell her was “Beth and I are OK. We’ll be home soon.”

That message didn’t do much to allay the fears of the 20-25 friends and family gathered at the Coppock farm house. Stanley had been elliptical because he felt that if he gave too many details, someone on the other end (could the phone have been tapped?) might notify police, and the “gentleman’s agreement” would be broken.

With Beth taking over the driving, they arrived two hours later, shaken, but relieved.

Every Jan. 18, they think about the Super Bowl ordeal, but until this interview, neither Beth nor Stanley had ever talked about it much.

Epilogue:

• Juan, the soon-to-be-born baby of Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez, is now 31 and has worked at the Los Alamos National Laboratory.
• Asked if she’d panicked during the ordeal, Beth said, “No. I always knew
  Daddy would protect me.”
• What drove home the reality of the kidnapping was the discovery, several hours later, that the family cow was still hobbled in the stanchion.
• Stanley would never leave the cow like that,” Velma said. Was the cow left that way as a signal to police? “No, I never thought of that,” Stanley said.
• Stanley later was confronted by “many a wisenheimer” who’d tell me I should have tried to overpower Burton and wrestle the gun away.”
• After kidnapping yet another hostage, a cab driver in Albuquerque, Burton turned the gun on himself, got injured, was arrested and later sent to prison in Arizona.
• Stanley went out of his way a few years later to visit Burton in the Stafford, Ariz., penitentiary. Stanley said Burton had expressed regret over the kidnappings. He died a few years after his release from prison.
• The white Ford pickup contained a decal on the driver’s side door that read, “Life is fragile. Handle with care.” I bought that pickup a few years later and often think of the fragility of life and marvel at the happy ending in which a family of four, a state policeman, a farmer and his daughter, and a taxi driver all could have been injured or killed.