Cult Massacre: Jonestown's Horror in the Jungle

This episode contains death and suicide related material that might be sensitive to some audiences. Listener discretion is advised. Your heart jumps into your throat as your head nearly slams into the seat in front of you. Taking a second to calm your nerves and allow the adrenaline rush to pass, you take a deep breath and sit back into the bus seat. After sitting back and taking a few deep breaths, you realize it has done nothing to stop the sweat beads from forming on your palms. Confusion starts to cloud your thoughts. Why should you be nervous? This is quite possibly the most exciting day of your life. You're finally taking initiative, finally going to be able to make a real difference in the world. If only your family could see it that way. The past few days they have been hounding you with phone calls and trying to convince you to move back in with them. They just don't understand a phrase you have been constantly repeating to yourself ever since you became involved with a new church. The noise startles you out of your thought. You consider ignoring the call, confidence you'll just be repeating the same argument you've been having for the last month. However, this may be the last time you'll be able to hear her voice for a while. Remembering this fact, you decide to answer Hello, Hello, honey, Are you all right? Yes, Mom, I'm fine. How many times do I have to keep telling you that? Listen, you can't have an attitude with me just because you're an adult. I'm still your mother. Oh, for the love of you know what, I really don't want to fight, Okay, and I know that's not what you want either, especially since we won't be able to talk for a while. You're right, it's just that you've been making me worry a lot. Wait, what do you mean we won't be able to talk for a while. Well, with us moving to Guyana and all the work we'll be doing in the community, it'll be hard to find some time to So that's what this is about. Of course, has something to do with this man. What did he tell you and you guys not to contact your family? Huh? Does he enjoy giving elderly women heart attacks? You don't understand. This man has been doing so much good for the community and he's just doing what is best for us. Besides, mister Jones is right, and I'm sure he would never force fully take away our honey. You see, mister Jones this and mister Jones that. Now. I know you've been doing a lot for the community, and I am so proud of you for that. But why can't you see what I'm saying. He's only gotten more controlling since you've joined the church. And now, what are you gonna do? Everything? He says? Mom? How many times are we gonna have the same fight? You know what? I can't repeat myself again. Okay, I'll talk to you soon. Exhausted from yet another fight, you hang your head and begin to massage your temples. You just don't understand how she or anyone else in your family can't just be happy for you. Besides, they don't know mister Jones like you do. He's a great man. Sure he isn't perfect how many people are, but he's done so much for you. Sure he's asked for some money, but what does that matter when all he does is just give it back to the poor. And it's not like he forced you to sell your belongings. We all suffer from materialism, and you keep going through a mental list in your head determined to prove your mother wrong. The only problem is that something was bugging you this entire move to somewhere on a completely different continent. Something felt a little off. It just came about so suddenly. Wasn't everything going smoothly back at home? The only thing that could come to your mind was how on edge mister Jones had seen the past week. His responses were more hostile and he seemed more agitated than normal. Or was it anxiety? Had something been going on in the community that put him on edge. It's not like you had any way of knowing, since there were no televisions allowed, Therefore, you had no idea what was going on in the news. That's just all a distraction from your purpose. Anyway. You're sure mister Jones wouldn't hide anything so important that he needed to uproot so many of his followers at the last minute. Right, besides, living Guyana is going to be a great experience. You lay back in your seat again as the bus starts to move. Traffic toward the airport has finally started to clear up. Yeah, this is going to be a great experience. Mister Jones loves you and he would never hurt you. Mister Jones is a great man, and mister Jones knows exactly what he's doing. It's all going to be okay. Your mother will see, They'll all see mister Jones is a great man. Just wait until she sees you again after you return from Guyana. Then she'll know that she was worrying for nothing. Yeah. Just wait. And the world did see. But unfortunately the image they saw was not one of peaceful families and followers of mister Jones living quiet, productive lives. Was one of death, despair, and horror, an image that still haunts first responders to this day. Welcome to Jonestown. My name is Edwin, and here is a dark memory. In August of nineteen seventy seven, James Warren Jones, or more commonly known as Jim Jones, moved himself and several hundred of his followers to an agricultural commune in Guyana, a former British colony located in South America near Venezuela and Brazil. Over the previous months, Jones had sent a few of his male followers to the land he had purchased in order to clear away trees and to start building living spaces for everyone. By the time he arrived with everyone else, there were sixty cottages, large kitchens and food storage areas, laundry rooms, an infirmary, two schoolhouses, and an open air pavilion they would use for their meetings and Jones pre with over nine hundred people living there yet formed what they call the People's Temple Agricultural Project or now known as Jonestown. These were part of the church Jim Jones created and preached at in San Francisco, the People's Temple Back in America, the group was actively involved in many different humanitarian causes. They were to constantly help their community. They were made up of people of all races because Jones was very outspoken about how segregation needed to end in the immorality of racism. Therefore, his followers were very active in diverse communities as well as low income communities, given that they didn't believe in capitalism. So once everyone was settled in Guyana, many people assumed that the community was living a peaceful life and aiding other people that needed help. Only peaceful is not the word I would use to describe their way of life. The public started to become suspicious of Jonestown only when de factors that had managed to leave and make their way back to America told us stories to the press. Among them were Deborah Layton, a couple, Tim and Grace Stowin. At first, they described how members of the settlement were often beaten, humiliated, and blackmailed into signing their possessions away even before they moved to Guyana. Jones had even managed to brainwash many of them into thinking that minorities were being imprisoned in concentration camps back in America. As if that wasn't bad enough, They then went on to describe how the commune was run like an armed work camp. Jones was constantly threatening mass suicide, or, in his words, a revolutionary suicide would occur eventually. With the thought of their loved ones possibly being beaten and held against their will, American citizens formed the group called the Concerned Relatives that were lobbying American authorities to investigate both people's temple in Jonestown so they could communicate directly with their loved ones. Due to the constant pressure from the public, On November seventh, nineteen seventy eight, United States Representative Leo Ryan announced that he would form a Congressional delegation to investigate stories and claims about Jonestown. He was decided that someone from the government needed to see the compound in person, so later that month, Congressman Ryan traveled to Guyana in order to inspect the compound and meet with the members. He wanted to determine if the residents were truly being held there against their will or not. Before he was set to leave Jonestown, some members were able to attack him. Fortunately, he was able to leave on a truck While he was still unharmed. A few members boarded the truck with him as well, claiming that they wanted to leave Jonestown. Unknown to Ryan, other residents had followed him on his way back to the airstrip so he could leave for America share what had happened to him. Before he could board the plane, he was attacked and killed. The Jonestown residents that followed him had shot and killed Brian and seven other people, three of which were press members, as well as eleven other people that were wounded. The people that lived there were willing to give everything for the man that they followed, the man that they worshiped, But just who was Jim Jones born on May thirteenth, eighteen thirty one in Crete, Indiana. Jones himself described his childhood as being treated like the trash of the neighborhood. His parents were James Thurman Jones, a World War One veteran, and Lynette Putnam. His father was an alcoholic but also a mystic fortune teller. He identified as an underdog. According to Jones, he would constantly fight bullies, rescue stray animals, and take home beggars from the streets. Jones was heavily influenced by Karl Marx, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, and Mahama Gandhi, and soon became interested in religion and the effect that had on people. Despite him being very intolerant of racism in America, people described him as a very weird kid. Apparently he would hold funerals for small animals and even stab the cat to death. Ones. Yeah, you heard that right. Sounds like a completely normal kid. Maybe he had something to do with his parents' divorce, who knows. After he spent the rest of his childhood with his mother in Richmond, Virginia, he then grew up to marry a nurse that was four years older than him. In nineteen forty nine. Together, they had five children, one of which was iron and four of which were adopted, two of Asian descent, one of Native American descent, and another child was African American. In the mid nineteen fifties, Jones opened his first church in Indianapolis, and during this time he had no affiliation with religious denomination due to his beliefs and of family appearance. A majority of his congregation was made up of African Americans. In nineteen sixty, it was then called the People's Temple. They became affiliated with the Disciples of Christ four years later was ordained by that church. During the mid nineteen sixties, Jones, his family, and about one hundred of his followers moved to a town in California. It was called Yukaia, and they moved there because they thought that they were safe there from monuclear holocaust. By the time nineteen seventy two rolled around, Jones was holding services in San Francisco and Los Angeles. At this time, no one was suspicious of him. In fact, he was loved and respected by politicians, the press, and the public. Not only was it due to his charismatic personality, he also claimed to read minds and heal people. It was paradise for Jones and adoring public and obedient following. Everything seemed to be perfect. It wasn't until nineteen seventy seven the cracks started to appear in his seemingly picture perfect life. The press had started to ask questions about his operation and how it was being financially supported. Fearful that he would be exposed, he then moved his family and around nine hundred followers to Jonestown and Guyana, which he had been planning for years, and up next an event that would make international headlines and show viewers that sometimes even people with the best intentions and end up receiving the worst consequences. For everyone that didn't live in Jonestown, and especially the family members of those who did, it was a constant worry about what it was like for them to live there, But it was much worse than any of them imagined. Six days a week, and every healthy resident was to perform manual labor. If they were in pain, then they were out of luck. Because Jones confiscated all medication from residents, but he kept himself, eventually medicated on amphetamines and barbiturates. He would consistently conduct public punishments and humiliation, and he would also conduct sexual advances in private. This was especially easy for him because as a leader, he had declared to all of his followers that all men except for himself, of course, were naturally homosexuals, and controls on who could associate with who were tightened. Families were torn apart, and he encouraged everyone to inform on one another. Essentially, he broke any sense of trust the followers had in one another. And as the sun went down the moon came out, what was known as White Knights took place. These took place in the main pavilion. Everyone would meet as a group while Jones preached about government conspirators in America, the media, and how the relatives in America wanted to destroy the community that they had built. Now. As bad as all of this was, it got even worse and more controlling. According to defectors and relatives, Jones would control all information that entered and left the camp. Letters were censored, the phone calls were restricted or even scripted, according to relatives that claimed they heard Jones telling their loved ones what to say on the phone when it came to the news. Well it was whatever Jones said it was. Some of the things he told his followers include the KKK marching through the streets of America, concentration camps were created for African Americans and political dissidents, even nuclear war on the verge in America, even controlled who came and left the compound with armed guards arounding Jonestown twenty four to seven. Now, with everything we've discussed, you're probably thinking that it can't possibly get any worse. I wish you were right. You see, Jones always knew that one day everything would fall apart, a compound would be put at risk, and so came his loyalty tests, where he had his followers practice revolutionary suicide. To do this, he would have all of them drink a fruit flavored drink similar to kool aid that he said was laced with poison. Once they all drank it and realized that they were still alive, he would tell them that they had passed yet to another loyalty test. Even with everything that they had endured, no one could have known what was going to happen next and after the shooting of US Congressman Leo Ryan and others at the airstrip, Jones sprung into action. He proceeded to release radio orders to everyone that wasn't currently in the compound to commit suicide as they had practiced back at the compound. He then enacted his plan for revolutionary suicide. The adults were given a fruit flavored drink that was laced with cyanide, tancrailizers, and sedatives. Those who refused to comply were forcefully injected with it, and those that tried to run were shot to death. Others were put in charge of squirting it into the mouths of infants and children using syringes before they drank the poison themselves. Jones himself was later found with a self inflicted gunshot bound to his head. This day, November eighteenth, nineteen seventy eight, went down as one of the most tragic days in American history, with over nine hundred American civilians dying at once. This marked the greatest civilian casualty in America's history before ninety eleven. It didn't take long for the media to cover this tragedy and for the story to spread across the world. Once news of this tragedy reached people, everyone was devastated, especially the families who were also angry with what was allowed to happen to their loved ones, and first the government tried to have the bodies buried in Guyana. The Guyanese government refused to allow it. On top of that, the surviving family members wanted their bodies to be brought back so they could hold proper burial services and have a chance to say goodbye. Due to this, the government was forced to have the military complete a recovery of the bodies. The death toll was so large, so brutal, that veterans from this time still suffer from post traumatic stress disorder due to this event. Just imagine it, bodies laying on the ground practically on top of each other for miles, even children, over three hundred of them. During the research for this topic, I came across pictures and if you like a more vivid description, you can always look up the Jonestown massacre for yourself, although I have to warn you look at your own discretion, as some of the images are very disturbing. At least they were all able to be brought back home for a proper burial. Their families will never receive justice. Every family has a story to tell, and some are more tragic than others. To learn more about specific families that were involved in this tragedy, be sure to check out the block popes on our site. It will contain more information and links where you can read their stories firsthand for yourself. Unfortunately, this is not the only mass suicide to appear in the media. Similar event was a Heaven's Gate mass suicide. The death toll was much lower, but it was no less of a tragedy. Ever since a tragedy that unfolded in Jonestown, the area and Guyana has remained uninhabited, a ghost towns now overgrown by the surrounding jungle. You look at your mother, tears pouring down her face as you slowly start to feel something warm on your face. You graize your cheeks, only to discover tears have made their way down your face as well. Shocked, you continue to cry silently, trying your best to muffle your sobs so your mother can't hear you. This is the last thing she needs. You're supposed to be the strong one, and if she sees you fall apart, god knows what she would do. You reach your hand down to grip hers and she squeezes back stronger than you were anticipating. You look up at the casket right as it lowers your sister into the ground. You feel the bile rise in your throat as you fight the urge to lose your breakfast during the funeral. God really is cruel sometimes, What does she ever do to deserve this? She was such a good person. She did more for the community than you ever did. If only that man, that monster, was still alive, so you could get your hands on him. She was too good for him, too good for the world. All she wanted to do was to help others. Look at how she was repaid. You still remember the last time you heard her voice. It was over the telephone. She was arguing with her mother about the same thing. As always. She had begun to contact you less and less. When your mother found out that she probably wouldn't be able to call when she was in Guyana, she freaked out. Honestly, you were upset too, but you felt that it would be too much for her if you chimed in on the phone call as well. But now you wish you chimed in to calm down the conversation so you could talk to her one more time. The last thing you heard her say was that she was tired of having the same fight. She would call us back soon. If only the engine stalled or the road was closed, perhaps she would have had an extra night to think it over and change her mind. But you know that kind of thinking is futile. You know your sister. Once she set her mind onto something, she always saw it through the end. Why did this end have to be the end? Why her? Soon you can no longer see her coughing as men start to shovel dirt back into the grave. As bad as you feel, you know your mother is much worse right now. You gently grab her shoulders and begin to lead her back to the car. As soon as you both sit back into the car seats, your mother saw start again. You feel your heart break as you try to hold her and allow her to just let everything out. Her head finds itself on your shoulder and make eye contact, finally able to make out her words in between her sobbing. Couldn't she just listen to me? You search your brain for an answer, any answer. So what does one even say in this situation? But will help ease her conscience? Although you already know the answer, nothing. There's nothing you can say, so you do the only thing you can think of. You hug her and listen, just listen. If only you got to tell your sister you loved her one more time, you thought you would be able to, she never called. What happened at Jonestown was a disgusting and unfair tragedy. Sometimes people are so blinded by their own good nature and need to help others, they end up putting themselves at risk. Sometimes their minds trick them into a false sense of security by reminding them that no matter what happens to them, they're still making a difference. If only these people were able to have real justice, maybe that would ease a suffering of all those families. Unfortunately they were never given that chance. Me the Jonestown massacre victims rest in peace, and the family and friends take solace the fact that they will never be forgotten. This episode of A Dark Memory was researched and written by Medelinguera and produced by me Edwin Kobarugas. Please send me an idea for a topic that you want us to talk about here on a Dark Memory. You can send an email to Hello at a Dark Memory dot com or find me on social media and send me a DM tanks to be sure to check out my other show called True Scary Story, where real people share their experiences with the paranormal. Don't forget a time follow to stay up to date with episodes from this show. Thank you very much for listening. Let see you soon.