Who - 25.06.2018

CRIME

really bad,” says Jerry, who left the church on

two occasions but returned both times.

By 1973 Jones had become obsessed with

moving his church to a 1500ha jungle

compound in South America that he’d leased

from the government of Guyana, promising

his congregants, “This is paradise. This is

where we’re going. We’re getting out of this

dangerous world.” That move became reality

in August 1977, after a magazine published

a meticulously reported story on Jones

ordering the physical and emotional abuse

of his congregants. Tracy, along with her

parents and sister, reluctantly arrived in

Jonestown in April 1978 ( brother Dale

and their grandmother had moved there

the year before) and quickly discovered

t was anything but the paradise they’d

been promised. “That place was the closest

thing to hell on earth,” recalls Tracy. “The

moment I saw that front gate I thought,

We are going to die here.’”

Within hours of their arrival at

Jonestown, her worst fears seemed to be

realised. She recalls watching helplessly as

Jones goaded a handful of followers into

beating her father when he announced that

he wanted to return to California. Tracy and

the other children spent eight hours a day

working in the fields, under a blistering

equatorial sun, while Jones could be heard

ranting in a haunting voice about his

“enemies” over loudspeakers. Gun-toting

guards watched her every move. “I dare you

to try to escape,” Jones, who by then had

become addicted to a range of narcotics,

would threaten his followers. “You won’t last

long in that jungle with the panthers and

snakes.” Constantly racked by hunger and

exhausted from lack of sleep, Tracy lived, she

says, in a state of “constant

terror,” but worst of all were

the mock-suicide drills

Jones called White Nights.

“They could happen

anytime during the day

or night,” Tracy recalls.

“We’d all gather together in

the pavilion, and he’d tell us,

‘It’s not going to be painful. You just lie down

and go to sleep.’ Everyone would be clapping,

shouting, ‘Yes, I’ll die for you.’ He got off on

the excitement.”

Back in San Francisco, pressure from

worried relatives of Jonestown members

forced authorities to finally begin

investigating Jones, who was being accused

of a variety of crimes including abuse,

kidnapping and money laundering. “I filed

lawsuits to take away his property, and I

organised relatives,” Tim Stoen, a former

temple member whose son, John, 6, was

being held hostage by Jones in Guyana

(see sidebar), revealed in a 2016 book-tour

appearance. “I did everything I possibly

could.” By the time California congressman

Leo Ryan arrived at Jonestown on Nov. 17,

1978, with a group of reporters and family

members, the drug-addled Jones had become

a seething, ticking time bomb. “He was

telling us that mercenaries and the CIA

were lurking in the jungle, ready to kill us,”

says Tracy. Her father—who once told Jones

that “I didn’t come here to die” during

one of his suicide drills—says he remembers

feeling that “something bad was on the

verge of happening.” “Death was in the air,”

Jerry recalls.

During a meeting with Ryan that

afternoon, Tracy’s grandmother, a longtime

devotee of Jones, summoned the courage to

tell the congressman that they were being

held at Jonestown against their will. Ryan

persuaded Jones to let him escort anyone

who wanted to leave the compound back to

the US. Fifteen cult members—including all

six members of the immediate Parks family—

followed Ryan and his party

back to the airstrip. But

before the plane could

depart, the passengers were

ambushed by gunmen sent

by Jones. Ryan, three

journalists and Tracy’s

mother, Patricia, 44, were

killed in the barrage of

gunfire; nine others were wounded. While

Tracy, her sister and four other teenagers

hid in the jungle, Jones summoned his

congregation to the open-air pavilion,

telling them that soldiers would soon be

“parachuting ” into Jonestown to kill

everyone. It was finally time to “take the

potion,” he can be heard saying in a rambling,

disturbing 45-minute audio recording found

afterwards, urging them to drink the

cyanide-laced punch that had been

p J a t i b t m

‘W

J

r

JJ

bb

h

t

Jones (c. 1978) in

Jonestown with some

of the children of his

followers—who would

eventually become among

his youngest victims.

Nov. 18, 1978

Ryan leaves the camp with 15 church

defectors, including Tracy and her

family. Jones supporters attack the

group at the airport, fatally shooting

Ryan, three journalists and Tracy’s

mother, Patricia (left); Jerry tends to the

wounded as Tracy and her sister, along

with others, flee into the jungle.

Nov. 18, 1978

Shortly after the airstrip

massacre, Jones calls

his followers to the

pavilion and tells them

there is “no hope” and

they must all commit

“revolutionary suicide.”

Armed temple members

ensure everyone takes

cyanide-laced punch.

Some 605 adults and 304

children die, including

John, the child at the

centre of the custody

battle, and Jones

himself. Tracy and her

group are rescued.

“Jonestown is like

a bad dream

that never ever

seems to go away”

—TracyParks

Nov. 17, 1978

At the urging of

the Stoens and

other former

Peoples Temple

members,

congressional

Rep. Leo Ryan

(left) travels

to Jonestown

to meet with

Jones.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: AP; CALIFORNIA HISTORICAL SOCIETY; GETTY IMAGES (3); COURTESY WILLIAM CHAFFIN; AP; NBC; CALIFORNIA HISTORICAL SOCIETY

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