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Jonestown Massacre

The Peoples Temple Agricultural Project, better known by its informal name

"Jonestown", was a remote settlement established by the Peoples Temple, a

cult under the leadership of Jim Jones, in northwestern Guyana. It became

internationally known when, on November 18, 1978, a total of 918 people died

in the settlement, at the nearby airstrip in Port Kaituma, and at a Temple-run

building in Georgetown, Guyana's capital city. The name of the settlement

became synonymous with the incidents at those locations.

In total, 909 individuals died in Jonestown, all but two from apparent cyanide

poisoning, in an event termed "revolutionary suicide" by Jones and some

Peoples Temple members on an audio tape of the event, and in prior recorded

discussions. The poisonings in Jonestown followed the murder of five others

by Temple members at Port Kaituma, including United States Congressman

Leo Ryan, an act that Jones ordered. Four other Temple members committed

murder-suicide in Georgetown at Jones' command.

Terms used to describe the deaths in Jonestown and Georgetown evolved

over time. Many contemporary media accounts after the events called the

deaths a mass suicide. In contrast, most sources today refer to the deaths

with terms such as mass murder-suicide, a massacre, or simply mass murder.

Seventy or more individuals at Jonestown were injected with poison, and a


third of the victims (304) were minors. Guards armed with guns and

crossbows had been ordered to shoot those who fled the Jonestown pavilion

as Jones lobbied for suicide.

Jonestown resulted in the largest single loss of American civilian life in a

deliberate act until September 11, 2001.

The Peoples Temple was formed in Indianapolis, Indiana, in 1955.Though its

roots and teachings shared more with biblical church and Christian revival

movements than with Marxism, it purported to practice what it called

"apostolic socialism".

The people in Jim Jones’s compound isolated themselves in Guyana because

they wanted in the 1970s what many people of the 21st century take for

granted a country should have: an integrated society that rejects racism,

promotes tolerance, and effectively distributes resources.

They believed Jim Jones because he had power, influence, and connections to

mainstream leaders who publicly supported him for years.

And they drank a cyanide-laced grape soft drink on November 19, 1978,

because they thought they had just lost their entire way of life. It helped, of
course, that it wasn’t the first time they thought they were taking poison for

their cause. But it was the last. Thirty years before he stood in front of a vat of

poisoned punch and urged his followers to end it all, Jim Jones was a well-

liked, respected figure in the progressive community.

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, he was known for his charity work and for

founding one of the first mixed-race churches in the Midwest. His work helped

desegregate Indiana and earned him a devoted following among civil rights

activists.

From Indianapolis, he moved to California, where he and his church continued

to promote a message of compassion. They emphasized helping the poor and

raising the downtrodden, those who were marginalized and excluded from

society’s prosperity.

Behind closed doors, they embraced socialism and hoped that in time the

country would be ready to accept the much-stigmatized theory.

And then Jim Jones began to explore faith healing. To draw larger crowds and

bring in more money for his cause, he started promising miracles, saying he

could literally pull cancer out of people.

But it wasn’t cancer that he magically whisked from people’s bodies: it was

bits of rotten chicken that he produced with a magician’s flare.

It was a deception for a good cause, he and his team rationalized — but it was

the first step down a long, dark road that ended with death and 900 people
who would never see the sunrise on November 20, 1978. It wasn’t long before

things began to get stranger. Jones was becoming increasingly paranoid

about the world around him. His speeches began to reference a coming

doomsday, the result of a nuclear apocalypse brought about by government

mismanagement.

Though he continued to enjoy popular support and strong relationships with

the day’s leading politicians, including First Lady Rosalynn Carter and

California governor Jerry Brown, the media was beginning to turn on him.

Several high-profile members of the Peoples Temple defected, and the conflict

was both vicious and public as the “traitors” lambasted the church and the

church smeared them in return.

The church’s organizational structure ossified. A group of primarily well-off

white women oversaw the running of the temple, while the majority of the

congregants were black.

The meetings of the upper-echelons grew more secretive as they planned

increasingly complicated fundraising schemes: a combination of staged

healings, trinket marketing, and solicitous mailings.

At the same time, it was becoming clear to everyone that Jones wasn’t

particularly invested in the religious aspects of his church; Christianity was

the bait, not the goal. He was interested in the social progress he could

achieve with a fanatically devoted following at his back.

The Tragic Story Of The Jonestown Massacre, Modern History’s Largest Mass
“Suicide”

By Kellen Perry

Published September 25, 2017

Updated February 28, 2019

Until the September 11th attacks, the Jonestown Massacre was the greatest

loss of civilian life as the result of a deliberate act in American history.

Trending Today In Philippines

Do This Immediately if You Have Diabetes (Watch)

The Secret Of Burning Belly Fat Nobody Told You About

Jonestown Massacre Aerial View

David Hume Kennerly/Getty Images

Dead bodies surround the compound of the Peoples Temple cult after its

more than 900 members, led by Reverend Jim Jones, died from drinking

cyanide-laced Flavor Aid. November 19, 1978. Jonestown, Guyana.

Today, the Jonestown Massacre that resulted in the death of more than 900

people in Guyana in November of 1978 is remembered in the popular

imagination as the time that gullible expats from the Peoples Temple cult

literally “drank the Kool-Aid” and died simultaneously from cyanide poisoning.

It’s a tale so bizarre that for many the strangeness of it almost eclipses the

tragedy. It baffles the imagination: nearly 1,000 people were so enthralled by a


cult leader’s conspiracy theories that they moved to Guyana, isolated

themselves on a compound, then synchronized their watches and pounded

back a poisoned kid’s drink.

How could so many people have lost their grip on reality? And why were they

so easily duped?

Meteorite Found in Siberia Contains Naturally Impossible Crystal

From Ancient Origins

The true story answers those questions — but in stripping away the mystery, it

also brings the sadness of the Jonestown Massacre to center stage.

The people in Jim Jones’s compound isolated themselves in Guyana because

they wanted in the 1970s what many people of the 21st century take for

granted a country should have: an integrated society that rejects racism,

promotes tolerance, and effectively distributes resources.

They believed Jim Jones because he had power, influence, and connections to

mainstream leaders who publicly supported him for years.

And they drank a cyanide-laced grape soft drink on November 19, 1978,

because they thought they had just lost their entire way of life. It helped, of

course, that it wasn’t the first time they thought they were taking poison for

their cause. But it was the last.

Before The Jonestown Massacre, Jim Jones Was A Civil Rights Activist

Jim Jones In Front Of Flag


Bettmann Archives / Getty Images

Reverend Jim Jones raises his fist in a salute while preaching at an unknown

location.

Thirty years before he stood in front of a vat of poisoned punch and urged his

followers to end it all, Jim Jones was a well-liked, respected figure in the

progressive community.

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, he was known for his charity work and for

founding one of the first mixed-race churches in the Midwest. His work helped

desegregate Indiana and earned him a devoted following among civil rights

activists.

From Indianapolis, he moved to California, where he and his church continued

to promote a message of compassion. They emphasized helping the poor and

raising the downtrodden, those who were marginalized and excluded from

society’s prosperity.

Behind closed doors, they embraced socialism and hoped that in time the

country would be ready to accept the much-stigmatized theory.

And then Jim Jones began to explore faith healing. To draw larger crowds and

bring in more money for his cause, he started promising miracles, saying he

could literally pull cancer out of people.

But it wasn’t cancer that he magically whisked from people’s bodies: it was

bits of rotten chicken that he produced with a magician’s flare.


Jim Jones practices faith healing before a congregation at his California

church.

It was a deception for a good cause, he and his team rationalized — but it was

the first step down a long, dark road that ended with death and 900 people

who would never see the sunrise on November 20, 1978.

The Peoples Temple Becomes A Cult

Jim Jones Rally

Nancy Wong / Wikimedia Commons

Jim Jones at an anti-eviction rally Sunday, January 16, 1977, in San Fransisco.

It wasn’t long before things began to get stranger. Jones was becoming

increasingly paranoid about the world around him. His speeches began to

reference a coming doomsday, the result of a nuclear apocalypse brought

about by government mismanagement.

Though he continued to enjoy popular support and strong relationships with

the day’s leading politicians, including First Lady Rosalynn Carter and

California governor Jerry Brown, the media was beginning to turn on him.

Several high-profile members of the Peoples Temple defected, and the conflict

was both vicious and public as the “traitors” lambasted the church and the

church smeared them in return.

The church’s organizational structure ossified. A group of primarily well-off

white women oversaw the running of the temple, while the majority of the

congregants were black.


The meetings of the upper-echelons grew more secretive as they planned

increasingly complicated fundraising schemes: a combination of staged

healings, trinket marketing, and solicitous mailings.

At the same time, it was becoming clear to everyone that Jones wasn’t

particularly invested in the religious aspects of his church; Christianity was

the bait, not the goal. He was interested in the social progress he could

achieve with a fanatically devoted following at his back.

At this meeting, the members of the Peoples Temple take turns praising Jim

Jones. They call him ‘Father’ and thank him for the miracles in their lives.

His social goals became more openly radical, and he began to attract the

interest of Marxist leaders as well as violent leftist groups. The shift and a

slew of defections — defections in which Jones sent search parties and a

private plane to reclaim the deserters — brought the media down on what was

now being widely regarded as a cult.

As stories of scandal and abuse proliferated in the papers, Jones made a run

for it, taking his church with him.

The Tragic Story Of The Jonestown Massacre, Modern History’s Largest Mass

“Suicide”

By Kellen Perry

Published September 25, 2017

Updated February 28, 2019


Until the September 11th attacks, the Jonestown Massacre was the greatest

loss of civilian life as the result of a deliberate act in American history.

Trending Today In Philippines

Do This Immediately if You Have Diabetes (Watch)

The Secret Of Burning Belly Fat Nobody Told You About

Jonestown Massacre Aerial View

David Hume Kennerly/Getty Images

Dead bodies surround the compound of the Peoples Temple cult after its

more than 900 members, led by Reverend Jim Jones, died from drinking

cyanide-laced Flavor Aid. November 19, 1978. Jonestown, Guyana.

Today, the Jonestown Massacre that resulted in the death of more than 900

people in Guyana in November of 1978 is remembered in the popular

imagination as the time that gullible expats from the Peoples Temple cult

literally “drank the Kool-Aid” and died simultaneously from cyanide poisoning.

It’s a tale so bizarre that for many the strangeness of it almost eclipses the

tragedy. It baffles the imagination: nearly 1,000 people were so enthralled by a

cult leader’s conspiracy theories that they moved to Guyana, isolated

themselves on a compound, then synchronized their watches and pounded

back a poisoned kid’s drink.

How could so many people have lost their grip on reality? And why were they
so easily duped?

Meteorite Found in Siberia Contains Naturally Impossible Crystal

From Ancient Origins

The true story answers those questions — but in stripping away the mystery, it

also brings the sadness of the Jonestown Massacre to center stage.

The people in Jim Jones’s compound isolated themselves in Guyana because

they wanted in the 1970s what many people of the 21st century take for

granted a country should have: an integrated society that rejects racism,

promotes tolerance, and effectively distributes resources.

They believed Jim Jones because he had power, influence, and connections to

mainstream leaders who publicly supported him for years.

And they drank a cyanide-laced grape soft drink on November 19, 1978,

because they thought they had just lost their entire way of life. It helped, of

course, that it wasn’t the first time they thought they were taking poison for

their cause. But it was the last.

Before The Jonestown Massacre, Jim Jones Was A Civil Rights Activist

Jim Jones In Front Of Flag

Bettmann Archives / Getty Images

Reverend Jim Jones raises his fist in a salute while preaching at an unknown

location.

Thirty years before he stood in front of a vat of poisoned punch and urged his
followers to end it all, Jim Jones was a well-liked, respected figure in the

progressive community.

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, he was known for his charity work and for

founding one of the first mixed-race churches in the Midwest. His work helped

desegregate Indiana and earned him a devoted following among civil rights

activists.

From Indianapolis, he moved to California, where he and his church continued

to promote a message of compassion. They emphasized helping the poor and

raising the downtrodden, those who were marginalized and excluded from

society’s prosperity.

Behind closed doors, they embraced socialism and hoped that in time the

country would be ready to accept the much-stigmatized theory.

And then Jim Jones began to explore faith healing. To draw larger crowds and

bring in more money for his cause, he started promising miracles, saying he

could literally pull cancer out of people.

But it wasn’t cancer that he magically whisked from people’s bodies: it was

bits of rotten chicken that he produced with a magician’s flare.

Jim Jones practices faith healing before a congregation at his California

church.

It was a deception for a good cause, he and his team rationalized — but it was

the first step down a long, dark road that ended with death and 900 people
who would never see the sunrise on November 20, 1978.

The Peoples Temple Becomes A Cult

Jim Jones Rally

Nancy Wong / Wikimedia Commons

Jim Jones at an anti-eviction rally Sunday, January 16, 1977, in San Fransisco.

It wasn’t long before things began to get stranger. Jones was becoming

increasingly paranoid about the world around him. His speeches began to

reference a coming doomsday, the result of a nuclear apocalypse brought

about by government mismanagement.

Though he continued to enjoy popular support and strong relationships with

the day’s leading politicians, including First Lady Rosalynn Carter and

California governor Jerry Brown, the media was beginning to turn on him.

Several high-profile members of the Peoples Temple defected, and the conflict

was both vicious and public as the “traitors” lambasted the church and the

church smeared them in return.

The church’s organizational structure ossified. A group of primarily well-off

white women oversaw the running of the temple, while the majority of the

congregants were black.

The meetings of the upper-echelons grew more secretive as they planned

increasingly complicated fundraising schemes: a combination of staged

healings, trinket marketing, and solicitous mailings.

At the same time, it was becoming clear to everyone that Jones wasn’t
particularly invested in the religious aspects of his church; Christianity was

the bait, not the goal. He was interested in the social progress he could

achieve with a fanatically devoted following at his back.

At this meeting, the members of the Peoples Temple take turns praising Jim

Jones. They call him ‘Father’ and thank him for the miracles in their lives.

His social goals became more openly radical, and he began to attract the

interest of Marxist leaders as well as violent leftist groups. The shift and a

slew of defections — defections in which Jones sent search parties and a

private plane to reclaim the deserters — brought the media down on what was

now being widely regarded as a cult.

As stories of scandal and abuse proliferated in the papers, Jones made a run

for it, taking his church with him.

Setting The Stage For The Jonestown Massacre

Jonestown Entrance

The Jonestown Institute / Wikimedia Commons

The entrance to the Jonestown settlement in Guyana.

They settled in Guyana, a country that appealed to Jones because of its non-

extradition status and its socialist government.

Guyana’s authorities warily allowed the cult to begin construction on their

utopic compound, and in 1977, the Peoples Temple arrived to take up

residence.
It didn’t go as planned. Now isolated, Jones was free to implement his vision

of a pure Marxist society — and it was a lot grimmer than many had

anticipated.

The daylight hours were consumed by 10-hour workdays, and the evenings

were filled with lectures as Jones spoke at length on his fears for society and

excoriated defectors.

On movie nights, entertaining films were replaced with Soviet-style

documentaries about the dangers, excesses, and vices of the outside world.

Rations were limited, as the compound had been built on poor soil; everything

had to be imported via negotiations on shortwave radios — the only way the

Peoples Temple could communicate with the outside world.

The Tragic Story Of The Jonestown Massacre, Modern History’s Largest Mass

“Suicide”

By Kellen Perry

Published September 25, 2017

Updated February 28, 2019

Until the September 11th attacks, the Jonestown Massacre was the greatest

loss of civilian life as the result of a deliberate act in American history.

Trending Today In Philippines

Do This Immediately if You Have Diabetes (Watch)


The Secret Of Burning Belly Fat Nobody Told You About

Jonestown Massacre Aerial View

David Hume Kennerly/Getty Images

Dead bodies surround the compound of the Peoples Temple cult after its

more than 900 members, led by Reverend Jim Jones, died from drinking

cyanide-laced Flavor Aid. November 19, 1978. Jonestown, Guyana.

Today, the Jonestown Massacre that resulted in the death of more than 900

people in Guyana in November of 1978 is remembered in the popular

imagination as the time that gullible expats from the Peoples Temple cult

literally “drank the Kool-Aid” and died simultaneously from cyanide poisoning.

It’s a tale so bizarre that for many the strangeness of it almost eclipses the

tragedy. It baffles the imagination: nearly 1,000 people were so enthralled by a

cult leader’s conspiracy theories that they moved to Guyana, isolated

themselves on a compound, then synchronized their watches and pounded

back a poisoned kid’s drink.

How could so many people have lost their grip on reality? And why were they

so easily duped?

Meteorite Found in Siberia Contains Naturally Impossible Crystal

From Ancient Origins

The true story answers those questions — but in stripping away the mystery, it

also brings the sadness of the Jonestown Massacre to center stage.


The people in Jim Jones’s compound isolated themselves in Guyana because

they wanted in the 1970s what many people of the 21st century take for

granted a country should have: an integrated society that rejects racism,

promotes tolerance, and effectively distributes resources.

They believed Jim Jones because he had power, influence, and connections to

mainstream leaders who publicly supported him for years.

And they drank a cyanide-laced grape soft drink on November 19, 1978,

because they thought they had just lost their entire way of life. It helped, of

course, that it wasn’t the first time they thought they were taking poison for

their cause. But it was the last.

Before The Jonestown Massacre, Jim Jones Was A Civil Rights Activist

Jim Jones In Front Of Flag

Bettmann Archives / Getty Images

Reverend Jim Jones raises his fist in a salute while preaching at an unknown

location.

Thirty years before he stood in front of a vat of poisoned punch and urged his

followers to end it all, Jim Jones was a well-liked, respected figure in the

progressive community.

In the late 1940s and early 1950s, he was known for his charity work and for

founding one of the first mixed-race churches in the Midwest. His work helped

desegregate Indiana and earned him a devoted following among civil rights

activists.
From Indianapolis, he moved to California, where he and his church continued

to promote a message of compassion. They emphasized helping the poor and

raising the downtrodden, those who were marginalized and excluded from

society’s prosperity.

Behind closed doors, they embraced socialism and hoped that in time the

country would be ready to accept the much-stigmatized theory.

And then Jim Jones began to explore faith healing. To draw larger crowds and

bring in more money for his cause, he started promising miracles, saying he

could literally pull cancer out of people.

But it wasn’t cancer that he magically whisked from people’s bodies: it was

bits of rotten chicken that he produced with a magician’s flare.

Jim Jones practices faith healing before a congregation at his California

church.

It was a deception for a good cause, he and his team rationalized — but it was

the first step down a long, dark road that ended with death and 900 people

who would never see the sunrise on November 20, 1978.

The Peoples Temple Becomes A Cult

Jim Jones Rally

Nancy Wong / Wikimedia Commons

Jim Jones at an anti-eviction rally Sunday, January 16, 1977, in San Fransisco.

It wasn’t long before things began to get stranger. Jones was becoming
increasingly paranoid about the world around him. His speeches began to

reference a coming doomsday, the result of a nuclear apocalypse brought

about by government mismanagement.

Though he continued to enjoy popular support and strong relationships with

the day’s leading politicians, including First Lady Rosalynn Carter and

California governor Jerry Brown, the media was beginning to turn on him.

Several high-profile members of the Peoples Temple defected, and the conflict

was both vicious and public as the “traitors” lambasted the church and the

church smeared them in return.

The church’s organizational structure ossified. A group of primarily well-off

white women oversaw the running of the temple, while the majority of the

congregants were black.

The meetings of the upper-echelons grew more secretive as they planned

increasingly complicated fundraising schemes: a combination of staged

healings, trinket marketing, and solicitous mailings.

At the same time, it was becoming clear to everyone that Jones wasn’t

particularly invested in the religious aspects of his church; Christianity was

the bait, not the goal. He was interested in the social progress he could

achieve with a fanatically devoted following at his back.

At this meeting, the members of the Peoples Temple take turns praising Jim

Jones. They call him ‘Father’ and thank him for the miracles in their lives.
His social goals became more openly radical, and he began to attract the

interest of Marxist leaders as well as violent leftist groups. The shift and a

slew of defections — defections in which Jones sent search parties and a

private plane to reclaim the deserters — brought the media down on what was

now being widely regarded as a cult.

As stories of scandal and abuse proliferated in the papers, Jones made a run

for it, taking his church with him.

Setting The Stage For The Jonestown Massacre

Jonestown Entrance

The Jonestown Institute / Wikimedia Commons

The entrance to the Jonestown settlement in Guyana.

They settled in Guyana, a country that appealed to Jones because of its non-

extradition status and its socialist government.

Guyana’s authorities warily allowed the cult to begin construction on their

utopic compound, and in 1977, the Peoples Temple arrived to take up

residence.

It didn’t go as planned. Now isolated, Jones was free to implement his vision

of a pure Marxist society — and it was a lot grimmer than many had

anticipated.

The daylight hours were consumed by 10-hour workdays, and the evenings

were filled with lectures as Jones spoke at length on his fears for society and

excoriated defectors.
On movie nights, entertaining films were replaced with Soviet-style

documentaries about the dangers, excesses, and vices of the outside world.

Rations were limited, as the compound had been built on poor soil; everything

had to be imported via negotiations on shortwave radios — the only way the

Peoples Temple could communicate with the outside world.

Jones Family Portrait

Don Hogan Charles/New York Times Co./Getty Images

Portrait of Jim Jones, the founder of the Peoples Temple, and his wife,

Marceline Jones, seated in front of their adopted children and next to his

sister-in-law (right) with her three children. 1976.

And then there were the punishments. Rumors escaped into Guyana that cult

members were harshly disciplined, beaten and locked in coffin-sized prisons

or left to spend the night in dry wells.

Jones himself was said to be losing his grip on reality. His health was

deteriorating, and by way of treatment, he began taking a nearly lethal

combination of amphetamines and pentobarbital.

His speeches, piped over the compound speakers at nearly all hours of the

day, were becoming dark and incoherent as he reported that America had

fallen into chaos.

As one survivor recalled:

“He would tell us that in the United States, African Americans were being

herded into concentration camps, that there was genocide on the streets.
They were coming to kill and torture us because we’d chosen what he called

the socialist track. He said they were on their way.” Jones had begun to raise

the idea of “revolutionary suicide,” a last resort that he and his congregation

would pursue if the enemy showed up at their gates.

He even had his followers rehearse their own deaths, calling them together in

the central courtyard and asking them to drink from a large vat he had

prepared for just such an occasion.

It’s not clear whether his congregation knew those moments were drills;

survivors would later report having believed they would die. When they didn’t,

they were told that it had been a test. That they had drunk anyway proved

them worthy.

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