Back in 2006, Marc Ecko — the streetwear mogul turned video game producer — dropped one of the most outrageous publicity bombs the culture’s ever seen. To promote his new graffiti video game Marc Ecko’s Getting Up: Contents Under Pressure, he released a grainy, two-minute video showing a hooded figure sneaking into an airbase and tagging Air Force One with the words “Still Free” in blood-red spray paint.
The plane. The f***ing president’s plane. It looked real. It looked wild. It looked like a revolutionary just took a Krink marker to the most sacred symbol of American power. Within hours, the video went viral, the internet lost its mind, and the U.S. Air Force launched an investigation to see if someone had actually bombed the big bird itself.
THE GRAFFITI HEIST THAT NEVER HAPPENED
Except it wasn’t real. It was a setup. A cinematic hoax. Ecko had rented a decommissioned Boeing 747 in a hangar in San Bernardino, California. Then, with full creative secrecy, he and the newborn ad agency Droga5 painted the plane to look exactly like Air Force One — same blue-and-white color scheme, same presidential seal, same majestic bullshit. They dressed a bunch of actors in black hoodies, filmed them breaking in, dodging dogs, cutting fences, and finally hitting the jet with a “Still Free” tag that echoed louder than any press release could.
A MASTERCLASS IN BRAND TROLLING
Droga5, which would go on to become one of the most disruptive agencies in the world, credits this stunt as its first major hit. At the time, Ecko was catching heat from the graffiti world for trying to cash in on the culture with a video game. So instead of dropping another weak ad, he did what every real vandal would: he put his name on the biggest wall he could find.
The whole thing was edited to look like raw security cam footage. It felt illegal. Dangerous. Ballsy. And that’s exactly how Ecko wanted it. When the Air Force issued a public denial and confirmed the plane was untouched, the mystique only grew. The media was already running with it. The internet had already crowned it king. And Ecko got what he wanted: headlines, hype, and a cultural W.
“STILL FREE”: THE MESSAGE BEHIND THE MAYHEM
Ecko claimed it wasn’t just a stunt. It was a statement. In his words, the campaign was about freedom of expression — about pushing back on censorship and control. The idea was simple: a can of spray paint against a fortress of power. He said he wanted to “start a dialogue,” but let’s not kid ourselves — he also wanted to sell copies of Getting Up.
The message? “Still Free.” The medium? The biggest fake vandalism job in history. The delivery? Viral gold.
CRITICS CRY BS, BUT THE STUNT STICKS
Not everyone loved it. Critics called it a sell-out move dressed up as activism. Blogs like Ads of the World and ViralBlog titled their takes “Holy Sh*t, Air Force One Is a Sell Out,” slamming the campaign as a marketing ploy wrapped in faux rebellion. But here’s the thing — the line between street cred and commercial clout has always been blurry. Ecko didn’t hide the fact that he was launching a game. He just knew the best way to sell graffiti was to be graffiti.
THE GAME ITSELF
The game, Marc Ecko’s Getting Up, dropped on PS2, Xbox, and PC just weeks before the stunt. It followed Trane, a young rebel artist battling a corrupt government in a city where graffiti is outlawed. The mechanics were part Jet Set Radio, part Grand Theft Auto, with heavy doses of aerosol propaganda. Reviews were mixed — some praised its ambition, others said it played like a broken toy. But after the Air Force One stunt, everybody wanted to see what the noise was about.
THE LEGACY
Today, “Still Free” is remembered not just as a viral video, but as a case study in culture-hacking. Adweek called it one of the boldest creative moves in ad history. Droga5 used it to rocket into the upper echelon of creative agencies. And Ecko? He secured his spot as one of the few fashion guys who actually walked the talk — even if that talk came with a fake B&E on a fake Air Force One.
This wasn’t just branding. It was performance art. A firework of rebellion, manufactured in a hangar, aimed straight at the zeitgeist. Whether it was genius or just well-lit bullshit is up to you. But one thing’s for sure — it made noise. Loud, messy, beautiful noise.
Marc Ecko Post Publicity Stunt
This was graffiti with a PR team. Punk with a production budget. A perfectly executed act of commercial anarchy. In an age of safe bets and algorithm-driven ads, Ecko tagged the presidency with a spray can and a smirk. He didn’t ask for permission. He faked the break-in, filmed the whole thing, and made the culture ask: “Did that just happen?”
No, it didn’t. But damn, it felt like it did.