01x04 - Mom vs. Cult

[bunniefuu]

- My name is Leslie.

I am a mother.

I have a son, Jakari.

We were members
of a religious cult.

Yeah. Yeah!

- I had to live a double life

to escape and save my son.

If I failed,
he would have been k*lled,

and so would I.

- This is my story.

I heard the siren,
and I heard Jim's voice

saying, run to the pavilion.

And he's asking people,
you know,

are you willing to die
for the revolution?

I was so scared
that he would ask me

to go and drink this potion.

Larry comes to me,
he goes, Leslie,

are you ready
to die for the revolution?

My heart was racing out of my--

I mean, my chest.

But I knew I had to say yes.

That was a test of my loyalty.

We are looking at death
in the face,

and I go, yes, Father.

These are photos of my family.

This is my mother, Inez Wagner.

And this is her on the ranch
in Anderson, California,

that my grandparents owned.

Just an amazing young woman.

This is my brother, Mark,

who was a beautiful,
beautiful child.

I had a lovely childhood.

This picture is of me
on the table, kitchen table,

with my grandmother
handing me something.

And this is me
and my sister, Michelle.

Michelle was four years
older than I.

We all did well until Michelle
was introduced to drugs.

So we're talking the love
and peace movement,

and she got really involved.

She stole my mother's car.

Um, she had an accident.

Um, she ended up
in juvenile hall.

And my mother
was at wits' end,

so a friend of hers told her,

oh, there's a church, and they
have this great reputation

for helping those youth
that are on drugs

to--to get off, right?

And that's
when we were introduced

to Peoples Temple.

- So we walk in,
and we're welcomed.

And there's this man
at the front of the church.

The man, Jim Jones,
is at the pulpit,

and he has on a robe,

and he has dark glasses on.

And he talked about God,

and then he talked
about, um, socialism.

Jones had
a bit of a mission here

to upgrade the services

and the condition
of the public housing.

So this guy was a--
a very pronounced presence

with a very strong image.

I was covering a--a--a rung
of city agencies,

one of them
the public housing agency.

He would show up with a flock
of aides around him,

and then he had other people

who would just kind of, uh,
shoulder along with him.

I guess you'd call them
almost bodyguards.

I was part
of the security team,

and so when we'd go
into the meetings,

we'd have three-piece suits
on, you know,

um, sunglasses

and looking like,
you know, agents.

You know, which,
we were his protectors.

- He was continually
called Father,

never Jim or Jones or Reverend.

He was--he was
capital F Father.

- This was a man that talked
about injustices,

people of color.

He spoke with such conviction,

it gave me a purpose
at that younger age.

- You felt like you was a part
of something that was great,

something that was good,
you know,

something that was
helping the community.

For me, that was exciting.

And it wasn't a church
that I was accustomed to,

which would have been
a primarily Black congregation.

This was a interracial
congregation.

I remember Joe Wilson

coming into
the Peoples Temple,

and he starts working
in the drug rehab program.

And we became, um, lovers.

This is the happy couple,

Joe and Jakari and myself
when Jakari was just born.

He was voted the most beautiful
baby in the hospital.

- Leslie had her son, Jakari,
before my daughter,

and Jakari and my daughter
were friends.

Sometimes Jim would
say, where is Jakari Wilson?

Joe would bring him
to the pulpit

and Jim would hold him up
like, this is Jakari.

He's gonna be, you know,
this great warrior,

this great socialist.

- He would talk about
Dr. Martin Luther King.

He would talk about the plight
of the Black Panthers.

So you felt like
you were really

part of history in the making.

The point
was that people knew

about Peoples Temple
but only from the outside

and from its
publicly cultivated image.

I began to--to wonder
what the church was like.

And finally,
I ran into some ex-members.

They were very spooked
and hesitant to talk,

and they said, you don't know
the half of it.

Uh, I was stunned.

Well, this is the article
I wrote in 1977.

"Jim Jones
is one of the state's

"most politically
potent leaders,

"but who is he,
and what's going on

behind his church's
locked doors?"

He had built
this reputation of being

this champion of people
that are disenfranchised

and have been abused,

not knowing that we were
suffering abuse

right there
behind those closed doors.

- They would slowly break down
the individual you

and mold you into something

until the pieces of yourself
are disappearing.

That's what Jim did.

That's what they did.

Wednesday nights
was called catharsis.

- Jim Jones would say,
whatever the person's name is,

get up here front and center.

You were, um, called out
on any grievances,

whether it be falling asleep
in church,

complaining,
definitely talking

about Jim Jones
and the hierarchy.

And all of the other members
would be sitting

in the congregation,
and they would be

yelling and screaming at him,

you should be ashamed
of yourself!

Punish him!

- My mother could have
come up to me and slapped me,

and I would have had
to take it--

or--or a sister
or sibling, husband.

And it was OK to draw blood.

- Or you might have
to box someone.

You would go
a certain number of rounds

until the accused person
falls down.

- You don't want
to be one of the ones

that's up on the floor
on a Wednesday night.

- Back then, I didn't question.

I just did what I was told.

They would take away kids.

They would make people,
uh, divorce

and remarry other people.

Or Jones would--
would, uh, have relations

with the--the top circle
of women.

Jones just took an--
an absolute, uh, hand

in everyone's life,

to the point where folks
would ask permission

for the smallest thing.

- For Jim, you know,
this exposé was so damaging

to his ego
because he was

the crème de la crème
of San Francisco.

- He had Marshall Kilduff doing
those bad stories about him,

and then he started
to tell the congregation,

we have to find a place,
a promised land.

- Jim was going to escape

the scandal, basically.

- And he said, oh,
you'll never go hungry.

We're gonna have
everything that's needed.

And guess what the name
of this complex going to be.

Jonestown.

The place they chose
in Guyana,

it wasn't just merely
in Guyana.

It was in the--
way in the backcountry.

It was unreachable by any road.

You had to take a boat
to get there.

They had a tiny airstrip.

Made it almost unbelievable
that someone

would go through this.

Basically, within a matter
of months, everyone had left.

They just vanished.

They left San Francisco,

and here they were
on their own terms

in--in a place
where no one could touch them.

At that time,
I was distancing myself

from Peoples Temple.

I was young.

I was impressionable.

At 18, I was feeling
very overwhelmed.

I'm drinking,
I'm dancing, and I'm--

I love this.

I had flipped totally,

and that's
when it all went to hell.

My husband, Joe,
finally said, I've had enough.

Joe approached me and said,

Jim wants to take Jakari
with him

when he goes to Guyana.

Was that OK?

I thought, well, Jakari will
be better off without me.

So I--I said OK.
I agreed to it.

A lot of people
couldn't understand.

How do you allow
your child to go?

The goal for me was,
Jakari would be able

to live without worrying

about being
k*lled in the streets.

I didn't let him go
not to see him again.

I let him go because I felt

it was the best thing for him
at that point.

One day, I received this
phone call, and they said,

are you ready
to go to, uh, Jonestown?

If you don't go now, you will
never see your child again.

And I think
what I realized was,

the life that I thought I had
was nothing.

It was nothing.
It was nothing without my son.

So whatever it takes, I'll go.

She was out of the church,

and they were luring her
to come back

because of Jakari.

If there had been no Jakari,

there would have been no reason
for Leslie to go there.

- And I said, OK.
I'll go to Guyana.

That's their
lovely little house,

and it's so darling inside.

Maybe we can take a walk
out there and see it.

We built that just for them.
They wanted a house.

So comfortable.

Now remember,
this is the rainy season,

so everything will look
wetter and less beautiful

than it does during
the dry season.

- I asked a friend,
what was Jonestown like?

And she said, you have
to see it to believe it.

So when we landed
at Georgetown airport,

which is the capital,

it was very third world.

I wasn't expecting that.

We're taken to the docks,
and there's a boat.

It's a raggedy old boat.

And I was a little frightened
because, you know,

it's creaky,

and it takes 24 hours
to get to Jonestown by water.

I was excited, you know,

to, um, take the trip.

Most of, uh, my family,

they had been over there
for a while

before I came over there.

I can't wait to see my son.

I can't wait
to see my friends.

I was excited.

So we get there...

And I'm searching for Jakari.

And I'm scanning the crowd,

and then I see Jakari.

And he puts his little arms
around me and hugs me.

And I'm just in tears.

And then Joe showed up.

I have my child.
And that was my main focus.

That was--that was my focus
was Jakari.

We had the family together,

and then my mother,
my brother,

and my sister arrived.

We would build our own homes.

We would build our own society.

We would become a utopia.

Everybody
was like worker bees.

Everybody had they job
to do, you know?

The first day was hard work.

I met the head of the crew,
and I was given a machete.

And I had never
held a machete.

We go out to the fields.

It's a banana field.

You have to get the root out,

and then we replant them.

I felt that Jonestown
had redeemed me,

that I had gone back
to my original Leslie,

my original self.

I was exhausted
when I got back to camp,

but it was this wonderful
experience at first.

Joe and I ended up
getting a cabin of boys,

and so we were the caregivers
for these boys.

There was probably six of them.

And we had Jakari.

Where's the toys at,
you guys?

Hey, put the light on
for the baby.

Children were
separated from their families,

and it was normal for a parent
not to raise their child.

Hey.
Hey. Hey!

- His strategy was
to destroy family

and the sense of family values

so that our loyalty
became totally to him.

Jones himself
wasn't quite as present

in the same familiar way
he was before,

and I think that--
that was a troubling sign

that the church
was changing its character.

- Jim was different.

He started changing
into a very, I felt,

sadistic person.

- This was a person
that was very angry,

and none of us knew why.

Security would
surround us in meetings.

You know, like,
no one's getting out.

No one's leaving.

Um, so paranoia really set in

to the camp early, early on.

I remember, uh, crossbows,

and I remember g*ns, r*fles,

and, of course, the machetes.

Leslie's husband, Joe Wilson,

was one of the top
security people

for Jim Jones
there in Jonestown.

He was a part of the
security team guarding Jones

and, uh, patrolling the camp
or whatever

for the protection
of the, uh, place.

Once I looked around,
I thought, wait a minute.

Do I want Jakari
to grow up like this?

No, there's no future
in Jonestown

for our babies, our children.

I couldn't share that
with anybody,

and I couldn't
share it with Joe.

The stress of that every day,
of trying to pretend

that I'm happy
when I was just not happy,

it was like a punch
in the stomach.

When I realized Jakari
had no future,

I thought we'd be better off
if we were in the States.

At that point,
I had no idea

how that was going
to come about,

but I believed that it would.

I arrived in August of 1977.

Six months later, we saw this
just enormous amount of people

coming into--to Jonestown.

I want to--approximately


and there was no space
for them.

So it was really tough

because the community
wasn't prepared.

- Also, the--the temple
was not really

very successful
as an agricultural mission.

Growing crops,
living in the heat, uh,

away from all your friends
and--

and sort of comforts of home,

all of that
was taking a toll on people.

There were late-night, uh,
perceived raids

where people were jumped
out of bed.

These were called
White Nights.

So my first
White Night experience

was being awoken
in the middle of the night.

I had no idea
what was going on.

I heard Jim's voice saying,
run to the pavilion.

Run to the pavilion.

So I grab my clothes,
I put on my boots,

and I go to the pavilion.

- I mean, I'm frightened
because I don't

understand what this is.

I see Joe with Jakari,
and they're

putting the children
behind, um,

these picnic tables
that we eat off of.

- And then Jim is talking
about, we're under attack.

My first thought is,
under attack from who?

Was it the CIA?

Was it the army?

Why were we here?

Jim told us that we
were definitely under attack

from the Guyanese army,
and I was given a machete,

and this is what we're gonna
use to protect ourselves.

We are looking at death
in the face,

which was so real
at that moment.

What bothered me the most,

not just me being awakened

but the children being
awakened and traumatized.

They're--they're babies
and they're toddlers,

Jakari one of them,

because I didn't want him
to be turned

into a little child soldier

that you see at nine years old
picking up a g*n

and k*lling someone
because they disagree with you.

So my thought was,
if we can survive this,

there has to be a way out.

It got to the point
to where there were

so many White Nights that I
began sleeping in my clothes

and leaving my boots
next to my bed.

I had a façade that
I was happy when I wasn't.

That facade that I carried
for--for months

worked until I just
couldn't do it anymore.

I thought the only
thing I can do

is to try to get
to Georgetown, the capital,

to get
to the American embassy.

I was living a double life,
which was difficult.

We're all prisoners, basically.

None of us can leave.

So I hid my glasses
in my trunk.

I thought, that's
the simplest reason for them

to OK my--my trip
to--to Georgetown

to get a new pair of glasses,

and they did.

And so I was on the boat
going to, um, Georgetown.

I was scared because I thought,
how am I going to get

to the, you know,
American embassy?

Jim Jones had some
of his most loyal followers

watching folks in Georgetown

to basically spy on folks

and--and to make certain
that there were

no attempts to go
to the embassy

to return
to the United States.

- I was scared that I was
gonna be found out.

What if I get to the embassy?

They're gonna be on the radio

with Jonestown right away,

telling, we have somebody
from Peoples Temple here.

If that had happened,
there had been

no way I can get Jakari back.

And so I just wasn't
willing to risk it.

And I was
totally disappointed.

I came back with my glasses
and saw Jakari.

And Joe, you know, saw me
and, you know, said,

I need to talk to you.

And I thought, oh my gosh.

He'd found the glasses.

Joe Wilson
was a hardheaded man.

Once Joe's temper
got the best of him,

he didn't care who you are.

He would take action.

- He says, I found these
in--in the trunk.

And I said, oh, my gosh,
acting in complete shock.

You found them where?

How did they get in the bottom
of the trunk?

That was the first time
I looked at him in his eyes

and lied to him,

and he knew it.

- At this point, the outside
world hadn't really gotten

a glimpse of what it
would be like to--to live

in this, uh,
so-called paradise.

Finally, one member
slipped away and said,

here's what life's like
in Jonestown.

- You don't speak out there.

You don't speak out
and say, hey, I disagree

with what you're doing,
because immediately

then you are a defector.

You are someone
who's against him,

so he'll keep
a closer eye on you.

- Debbie Layton was
a high-ranking church member.

She knew a lot about
the church's doings.

She handled some of their
money, uh, millions of dollars.

- He talks on the radio--
on the loudspeakers all day.

He's--there's loudspeakers
within the community,

the--the compound.

She left
for very predictable reasons.

It--it was, uh, uninhabitable.

It was, uh, intolerable.

- All day,
you're hearing him talk,

all day.

- She was one
of his close aides.

When she left, he really
started getting paranoid.

He felt betrayed.

Seemed like all hell
broke loose.

I think that was the start
of the end.

- Things progressively
got worse.

The first, um, suicide drill
was during the day,

and Jim called everyone
to the pavilion.

He talks about
revolutionary suicide.

And if we're under attack
and we feel like we're not--

there's no way out, you know,
that's an honorable way to go.

And he's asking people,
you know,

are you willing to die
for the revolution?

- It was just a part of
that brainwashing, you know?

You up for so many hours,

and all you want
is some sleep,

especially after working
all day.

And I'm thinking to myself,
if I could just get some sleep,

you know, I'd gladly
die tomorrow, you know?

I was so scared
that he would ask me

to go and drink this potion.

Later he comes to me,
he goes, Leslie,

are you ready to die
for the revolution?

My heart was racing out of my--

I mean, my chest.

I knew I had to say yes,

uh, because if I didn't,

I would have been disciplined.

And I go, yes, Father.

And he goes,
oh, it's just a test.

What in the world is going on?

Why would we k*ll ourselves?

Why would I k*ll my child?

But why are we--
what are we dying for?

What was the reason for this?

I just knew
that I had to get out.

I was feeling
so overwhelmed

and I was feeling
so disappointed,

and I just wanted to vent.

And so I wrote a letter
to my friend in Jonestown:

I don't want to be here.
There's nothing for us.

I hate Jonestown.

I want to go back
to the States.

You know, there's no life here.

Please tear this up.

And hoping maybe she can
give me some encouragement

to say,
hey, it's gonna be OK,

or maybe she knew something
I didn't know.

I trusted her
not to share that

because she knew
what the outcome would be.

I would be
in horrendous trouble,

and I would be
probably beat up.

The next thing I know,

Jim is reading the letter.

He said, get front and center.

So you don't want to be here.
You hate it.

So--so you're not a socialist
and you--you're a traitor.

Here comes my mother:

you know, you're supposed
to--you know,

you're supposed to be
a good socialist.

My brother had to come up.

You know, my sister:
you're not supposed--

I mean,
they had to attack you.

The whole audience
is screaming, you traitor!

I felt such shame
that I was singled out

and I was supposed
to be the wife of Joe Wilson,

the mother of Jakari.

And Joe just had this look
on his face that, we're done.

We're done.

It's the worst thing
that could have happened,

that I was exposed
in that way,

because I had been fighting
so hard to--

to wear these two
different masks.

Everything was shattered.

Everything just...

pieces.

And I thought, I'm not
gonna be able to get out.

I was sentenced to two
weeks on the Learning Crew

'cause I was a traitor.

I'm saying
that I want to leave.

We're working six days a week.

You have to run
everywhere you go,

and you can't eat
with your family.

You can't look at anyone.

You are excommunicated

by--but still living
in the compound.

Joe kicked me out; he said,
you can't live here anymore.

Um, I went into a cottage.

I didn't have any--hardly any
friends, but I had my child.

I did befriend someone in
the pharmacy named Diane Louie.

So we kind of developed this--
this friendship,

just talking
about different things.

Nothing negative, of course.

You didn't know who you could
trust and who you couldn't.

One day, we got on the subject
of not being happy.

Dangerous waters
to even question, you know,

like, are you happy?

I had butterflies
in my stomach.

Um, she goes, well,
my boyfriend is finding an--

an escape route
to leave Jonestown,

and his name
was Richard Clark.

And I said, well,
I want to go too.

I really want to leave,
and I want Jakari with me.

I believe they trusted me
because of the trouble

that I got into.

They believed that they
could trust a traitor.

I just was on standby
and waiting.

This is a religious group

that has picked up and left,

and their families
don't know much about them.

Letters were returned.

Uh, visits were brushed off.

And they were nervous
because they'd been hearing

negative stories
about the temple.

And they got together.

They formed a sort
of a loose coalition.

And that led
to Congressman Leo Ryan

organizing a delegation
to go and visit

the temple in Guyana.

This set off
a wave of paranoia.

- Jim made it very clear
he was not happy

that this congressman
was coming in to start trouble.

- He was talking
about, um, Leo Ryan

and all these, uh,
concerned family members,

just talking about,
you know, um,

that was just gonna be
his last battle.

There was an eagerness

among media to--to go.

Here was a--an odd story
in a faraway place.

Um, we have
a real-life congressman

leading the--
leading the charge.

They land
on a nearby airstrip,

dirt airstrip,
nothing special.

We heard the siren.

Everyone get to the pavilion.

Everyone get
to the pavilion.

Congressman Leo Ryan
has arrived.

The group
had driven to Jonestown.

They're shown this.
They're talked to that.

They have a--a sort of
a--a rousing, uh, evening.

Congressman Ryan says,
I've seen this beautiful, uh,

operation of yours,
and I'm really impressed.

- I can tell you right now
there's some--

some people here who believe
that this is the best thing

that ever happened
in their whole life.

We put on a good show,
and the clapping went on

for at least two
or three minutes.

Then Diane came to me
and said,

we're leaving tomorrow morning.

I'm thinking,
finally, it's here.

Finally, it's here.

And I knew I was doing
the right thing,

but it didn't stop my fear.

I was really nervous,
really nervous

because this is the day
that I have to leave.

I think security
is really on alert now

with, um, Congressman Ryan.

That was an opportunity,
so we have to take the chance.

I got to the kitchen,

and Diane and Richard
were there,

and I had Jakari.

And then Joe comes up,
and he asks us,

where are you going?

And I thought,
OK, I'm done.

We're not going.

And then I look at Richard.

Richard just gives me
this look like,

don't--don't do anything.

And then Richard says,
we're going on a picnic.

And Joe says, well,
today's not a good day.

Don Harris spoke
to many Jonestown people.

- Are you happy here?

Things began
to fall apart fast.

Some of the concerned
relatives,

the outside critics
who had come with Ryan,

began to find their relatives

who now say they want
to leave with this delegation.

Jones becomes furious.

His kind of, uh, face falls.

It--it--there's a fracture
in the image.

People aren't as happy
as he suggests.

- People play games, friend.

They lie.
They lie.

What can I do about liars?

Are you people going to--
leave us.

I just beg you,
please leave us.

I went to go see my mom,

and I said,
Mom, I just want to say,

you know, goodbye, basically.

She goes, where are you going?

I said,
we're going on a picnic.

And she's--a picnic?

My mother was there.

My brother was there.

My sister, Michelle.

So my plan was to--
to leave, escape Jonestown,

and bring my family back.

And so I hugged her
and I kissed her

and I told her I loved her,

not knowing
that was the last time

I was gonna see her.

Congressman Ryan's
group tried to take

some of the, uh, relatives
who want to now leave

with their family members.

- You bring
those kids back here!

Don't you touch my kid!

They go back to the airstrip,

and at this point, uh,
Ryan is--is roughed up.

- Suddenly, the knife
was around my neck.

He has a bloody shirt.

That's when he really, uh,

said, it's time to go,

or he felt like
he was in trouble.

He didn't know Jones
was this, uh,

crazy or fanatic, you know?

I don't think the majority
of the people thought that this

was actually gonna go down.

- I look at Richard,
and Richard says--

kind of said,
we--we got to go, right?

As fast as we can, go, go, go.

I have Jakari, um, on my back
with a sheet.

A total of 11 people
were on the road that day.

Richard had been
preparing the escape

by cutting a way
through the jungle

from the time he got there,
which was eight months prior.

We start going up
to this--this field

where the banana trees
are normally at,

so we are totally exposed.

And I'm thinking,
there's no way they c--

they don't see us.

How could they not see us?

So I'm following
everyone up,

and I'm waiting for the b*llet.

I begged them,
if you see me shot dead,

please get Jakari out.

I was ready to die
to make sure my son was free.

I still don't know
which direction we're going,

but I'm following
the leader,

Richard Clark and Diane Louie.

The only way
to leave Jonestown

was catching the boat,

riding the boat the 24-hour
ride into Georgetown

or going to Port Kaituma
and getting on a plane.

You know, we keep walking,

and then we hear
someone coming up:

where are you guys going?

We--we're going on a picnic.

Still, that excuse for
a picnic has not registered.

What I knew was,
he was going to notify people

that he had seen us
on the road,

and that was going
to initiate a search for us.

So we pick up the speed.

Jakari's getting heavy,
of course, but we keep moving.

Jones says,
no, I can't control

this world anymore.

And people are puzzled
all around him:

what--what do we do?

How do we stop this?

What do we do next?

There's a rush to leave
with this group.

They're not sure what's
gonna happen next.

Jones' pe--people seem to be
unhinged, uncontrolled.

- We can hear
the tractor trailer

coming with all the entourage,
the concerned relatives.

So we dive to the right-hand
side of the--of the road.

We just laid
in the grass quietly,

praying that nobody
would say anything,

that Jakari wouldn't cry out.

And we could hear them
talking.

Joe was looking for me.

He was looking
underneath the truck--

the truck to see
if we were there.

He was frantic.

He was frantic
that he couldn't--

that he couldn't find us.

And people said, well,
we don't--she's not here.

We don't know where she is.

We don't know where she is.

And so he was--
he was highly upset.

Jones gave
the security team an order

to go to Port Kaituma airstrip

to, um,

sh**t the congressman.

- And that's when
all hell breaks loose.

- They drove up
on the airstrip

and just started
sh**ting everyone.

They k*ll Ryan.

They wound other people,
and it's not till the next day

that help arrives.

We're all on this walk
for freedom,

and I'm sure everyone
in Jonestown realized,

this is not just a picnic.

This is a full-blown escape.

We were nowhere to be seen.

We don't know how many hours
we've been on the road

'cause no one has a watch,

but we know that we've
covered some miles.

We feel that.

And so we're--we're walking,
we're walking, we're walking.

And we make our way
to a clearing,

and then we have
this discussion

about which way to go.

The original plan
was seven miles

trekking through the jungle
to Port Kaituma.

I knew that going
to Port Kaituma for me

meant Joe would easily
be able to find me.

That's the first place they're
going to look is Port Kaituma.

I knew that if Joe found me

that Joe would have
shot me dead.

No doubt.
No doubt in my mind.

But the closest town is,
like, 30-something miles away.

I believe everybody resolved
themselves to say, OK,

our only other option
is Matthews Ridge.

But no one had been
to Matthews Ridge,

so we were going
blinded, basically.

But that was our best chance
at that time for survival.

You can't just
k*ll a delegation

and return to normal life.

Everything is crashing down.

- By this time, he's--
he's not the same person.

His voice is different.

His speech is slurred.

- He's just, uh,

at the end of his tether.

The sun's getting
higher, and we're tired.

And then all of a sudden,
we hear the sound of a train.

Everyone decided, we're gonna
go climb on the train

to Matthews Ridge.

The train stops,

and these policemen
come down with g*ns.

They--they draw g*ns on us.

And we're--we're
putting our hands up.

They say, you know,
who are you?

You know, I was scared
that they were gonna

send us back to Jonestown.

And the captain says,
we heard

it was like
a concentration camp.

And we just thought,

oh, my God,
so you're a friend.

You're not a foe.

We knew that we were safe
at that moment.

- I don't think, um,

majority of the people
knew that, you know,

he had the cyanide poison,
you know, to do this.

- You had three choices.

Either you drank it,

or you got injected with it,

or if you tried to run,
you got shot.

Take your pick.

- I don't think any of them
really imagined

that he would have been
such a coward

that he would have forced them

to be poisoned, to be k*lled.

Good evening.
Here's what's happening.

We're interrupting
our special broadcasting

to bring you
this special report, um,

a news scene newsbreak
on the Peoples Temple

mass suicides in Guyana

and the m*rder
of Congressman Leo Ryan.

I also have to warn you as
we begin this special report

that what you're
about to see

almost defies description,

and some of you may not want
to watch it.

There's, uh, just a--

a hillside of--of dead bodies.

Jones himself is dead.

The others around him
are dead.

And that's when the--the real
dimension and scale of--

of the horror, uh,
it comes about.

You force somebody
to k*ll themselves,

but they're not really k*lling
themselves then, are they?

I don't know.

It's just sick.

- It was not suicide.
It was m*rder.

We found out
when we got to Georgetown

the count was 911 bodies.

And I thought...

There's no way--there's no way
that could be right.

Those who departed
today are the second group

to leave Guyana,
and 30 more

are expected to leave tomorrow.

- Turn around this way, OK?

Now,
your husband had been a part

of the security force
in Jonestown.

Tell me what you know
about that.

- From what I understand,

he was one of the gunmen
who k*lled Congressman Ryan

and the others on the plane.

How do you feel about that?

- It didn't--
it didn't surprise me,

mainly because, um,
Joe would do anything

Jim Jones told him to.

People who were in Jonestown

trusted Jim Jones enough
that when he said,

the best thing for us
is to commit suicide,

they committed suicide.
- Right.

They poisoned their children.

- Right.
Why?

- From what I--
from what I understand,

and I've been in enough
of the so-called White Nights

to know how people reacted--

The suicide drills.

- Right.

And, um, I think mainly
because of the pressure

and because of the lies
that Jim Jones had said

about fascists would come in
and take the children

and put them
in concentration camps,

so therefore they
wouldn't have to suffer.

Why did people
who lived in Jonestown

believe that, if they did?

- Jim Jones had
a charisma about him.

And as time--
as when I got over here,

things just changed.

It wasn't how it
was described to be.

Jonestown wasn't the way
it was described to be.

And I think mainly that
they believed they wanted

to hold on to something.

Had you been there--

What would I have done?

Um, I wouldn't have
taken the poison.

I would have--I would have had
to have been shot.

The whole thing
was a brainwashing technique.

It kept people
from not really thinking,

not really realizing
what was actually going on.

It was nothing
but a concentration camp,

a modern-day sl*ve camp.

I got Jakari out by the grace
of God and a lot of help.

So there was joy,
but then there was pain.

There was so much joy.

There was so much pain, right?

And it lasted for years.

The aftereffects of that,
the aftermath of that

was so tragic,
so tragic.

And, um, survivor's guilt

was rampant, rampant for me.

I didn't accept the--the--

the--the deaths of my--
my mother, my brother,

my sister, my niece
and nephew, my friends.

I couldn't--I couldn't
even comprehend that.

- Man, I felt--it felt--
it felt numbing.

I mean, you know,
it's like, um--

like being in a daze.

I lost my mom.

And I'm thinking,
jeez, my mom, my brothers

and sisters are here,
my cousins, my little nephew.

Uh, all these lives
that were wasted, you know?

- Well, the 18th of November
reminds me of the fact

that my life speaks
for 900-plus people

who can't speak for themselves.

You know, Jakari had--
life has--had not turned out

the way I wanted it to be,

and I know because
he was traumatized

from in the womb

to outside the womb
to Jonestown.

So it's been difficult,
but we love each other,

and I love him
to the moon and back.

This is so lovely, isn't it?

Look at all the leaves
down here.

Aren't there a lot of leaves?

I look at my granddaughter
now, I'm like,

my God, he was--
that was his age, at three.

What do you think?

I still have faith in humanity
that things can change,

and what that takes is love.

That's it.
Love.

That's all it takes.