Multi media educational entertainment

This Generation:   30 years since the Guyana tragedy

By Deon Price |

                            Published   November 21, 2008

 Editor's note: The following is an excerpt from Deon Price's forthcoming book 'Raised N Hell.'

Thirty years after one of the most shocking and tragic events in U.S. history, there is now a memorial for those who perished. The annual reminder of the horrific events that occurred in the jungles of South America also resurrects my family's experience and escape from the Peoples Temple. The religious cult led by Rev. Jim Jones nearly consumed my mother's life during the mid-1970s.

After 20 years in the Baptist church, my mother was overwhelmed by the powerful influence and preaching of a charismatic young minister, Jim Jones. As a young child, I recall attending church services when his congregation was in the Los Angeles area. We were able to recite the popular Sunday school song, 'Welcome, welcome every one . . .' It was often a well-anticipated event attending The Peoples Temple.

 Jim Jones appeared to be a very personable and passionate man.  I remember meeting him for the first time while my mother was preparing to sing in the Peoples' Temple choir. He would gently hold the back of my head when he spoke to me as if he were delivering some sort of power or energy. Weird dude!

Jones was very popular among African American people. He was widely respected for setting up a racially mixed church that helped the disadvantaged. About 68 percent of Jonestown's residents were black. My mother was so caught up in his congregation that she faithfully wore a medallion of him around her neck. Although her enthusiasm and loyalty for Rev. Jones led her to reduce her alcohol consumption, it was also beginning to wear on the family. It became an obsession.

There were pictures of him all over the house as if he were of divine origin. She even replaced a popular painted picture of the accepted blond-haired, blue-eyed depiction of Jesus with the sunglasses-wearing Rev. Jim Jones. Sadly, she would have faithfully followed Jim Jones anywhere, even to a remote location in South America. Jones was just beginning to preach, organize and campaign for his movement or mass exodus as he called it, to an independent cultural and spiritual society outside of the United States. He was also strategically planning to flee to avoid growing accusations of child molestation and corruption within the Peoples' Temple at the time.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, Jim Jones would do an unthinkable gesture for anyone, particularly a minister who would snap my mother out of it and encourage her to shy away from both Jim Jones and the temple.  During one of his sermons, he often criticized the Bible and at times challenged its accuracy. This particular afternoon, he took his criticism of the Bible to another level as he ripped a page out of the King James version of the Bible and balled it up to discard it. This turned quite a few people, including my mother, away from his congregation, which ultimately saved her life and probably mine.

Had it not been for that incident, we more than likely would have followed Jim Jones, as did many of her friends, to the jungles of Guyana. Many of the followers were convinced to forfeit or sell their their homes and assets to support the Peoples Temple movement to Guyana.

Less than two years later, we would be shocked by viewing the national news reports of a massive suicide by nearly 900 members of the Peoples Temple. As I watched the live footage of the tragedy on the news and saw the countless rows of lifeless bodies of men, woman and children, I recalled getting chills with a pinching ache in my stomach.  It was an eerie, sickening feeling that I had never felt or would ever experience again. For many years, I would have nightmares as a result of my experience and connection with such a horrible event. Even the mention of his name, the Peoples Temple or that awful child's song, 'Welcome, Everyone,' played like a dreaded horror film to me for many years.

Deon Price is a youth advocate and freelance writer who lives in Suisun City, Ca. He can be reached at Deon.Price@comcast.net