"Hurry, My Children, Hurry"
A recording reveals the death throes of the Jim Jones cult
First had come the numbing photos: nearly 900 colorfully clad bodies clustered near a vat of poison. Next, the anguished accounts of the bewildering tragedy by its few survivors. Last week, nearly four months after they had occurred, the mass deaths at Jonestown in the remoteness of Guyana's jungles took on a new and far more personal dimension. Americans sat in their living rooms and heard the actual sounds of the Peoples Temple dying.
In an incredible aftermath to a bizarre event, NBC television broadcast a tape recording of the Rev. Jim Jones' pleading with his followers to "die in dignity" by sipping a cyanide-laced drink. A few of the cultists protested. Some women screamed. Children cried. Armed guards took up positions around the camp to keep anyone from escaping. Other cultists, assembled around their leader's wicker-chair throne in an open hall, applauded as Jones implored in a high-pitched, agitated voice: "Please, for God's sake, let's get on with it."
Someone in the schizophrenic California-based cult, which hacked a spare living out of the Guyana soil while banking millions in secret Swiss accounts, had recorded the final 43 minutes of the colony's existence. The tape was found by a U.S. consular employee in Guyana and turned over to the FBI. Guyanese officials were given a copy. While both Guyana and the U.S. Justice Department refused to release the tape, copies somehow proliferated. The one obtained by TIME last week discloses that Jones' death decree was met with stubborn resistance as well as fatal acquiescence.
Jones had called his followers together after a two-day visit by California Congressman Leo Ryan. The Temple leader was outraged by the fact that a score of the cultists had asked Ryan to help them escape the colony. Ryan's party and the defectors had left Jonestown to fly home from a nearby airstrip. Jones knew of a plot by his group to shoot the pilot of one of the visitors' two planes. He was not aware, at first, that Ryan and four others in the party had already been ambushed and slain at the airfield.
Jones: We are sitting here, waiting on a powder keg. To sit here and wait for the catastrophe that's going to happen on that airplane−it's going to be a catastrophe. It almost happened here when the Congressman was nearly killed here. [A cultist had attacked Ryan with a knife.] You can't take off with people's children without expecting a violent reaction. [Some of the defectors were children whose parents had split on whether to flee or stay.] We've been so terribly betrayed.
What's going to happen here in a matter of a few minutes is that one of those people on the plane is going to shoot the pilot. I know that. I didn't
plan it, but I know it's going to happen. And we better not have any of our children left when it's over. Because they'll parachute in here on us.
[He feared the Guyanese army would retaliate.] So you be kind to the children and be kind to seniors, and take the potion like they used to take in ancient
Greece, and step over quietly, because we are not committing suicide−it's a revolutionary act.
Cultist Christine Miller: Is it too late for Russia? [The colony had considered fleeing to Russia if life became too difficult in Guyana.]
Jones: It's too late. I can't control these people. They've gone with the guns. And it's too late.
Miller: Well, I say let's make an airlift to Russia. I don't think nothing is impossible, if you believe it.
Jones: How are we going to do that?
How are you going to airlift to Russia?
Miller: Well, I thought they said if we got in an emergency, they gave you a code to let them know.
Jones: No, they didn't. [Apparently to pacify the woman, Jones said he would try to check with the Russians, but doubted it would help.] To me death is not a fearful thing. It's living that's cursed. It's not worth living like this.
Miller: I think that there were too few who left for 1,200 people to give their lives for those people that left.
Jones: Do you know how many left?
Miller: Oh, 20-odd. That's small compared to what's here.
Jones: 20-odd. But what's gonna happen when they don't leave? When they get on the plane and the plane goes down? That plane'll come out of the air There's no way you fly a plane without a pilot. You think Russia's gonna want us with all this stigma? We had some value, but now we don't have any value.
Miller: Well, I don't see it like that.
I mean, I feel like that as long as there's life there's hope.
Jones: Well, everybody dies. I haven't seen anybody yet didn't die. And I like to choose my own kind of death for a change. I'm tired of being tormented to hell. Tired of it. [Applause.]
Miller: But I look at all the babies and I think they deserve to live.
Jones: But don't they deserve much more? They deserve peace.
Miller: I think we all have a right to our own destiny as individuals. And I have a right to choose mine, and everybody else has a right to choose theirs.
Jones: The best testimony we can make is to leave this goddam world. [After applause, more argument breaks out in the crowd. Jones' voice, remarkably controlled, begins to rise.] Everybody hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Lay down your burdens. Down by the riverside. Shall we lay them down here by the side of Guyana? When they start parachuting out of the air, they'll shoot some of our innocent babies. Can you let them take your child?
Voices: No! No! No!
Man: I'm ready to go. If you tell us we have to give our lives now, we're ready; all the rest of the sisters and brothers are with me.
Jones: I've tried to keep this thing from happening. But I now see it's the will of sovereign Being that we lay down our lives in protest against what's been done. If they come after our children, and we give them our children, then our children will suffer forever. [Cultists returning from the airstrip tell Jones that Congressman Ryan has been killed.]
Jones: Please get us some medication.
It's simple, there's no convulsions with it. Just, please get it. Before it's too late. The G.D.F. [Guyanese army] will be here. Get movin', get movin'. Don't be afraid to die. Are you going to separate yourself from whoever shot the Congressman? I don't know who shot him.
Voices: No! No! No!
Jones: How many are dead? [One of the airstrip party reports that others were killed.] Aw, God, Almighty God. It's too late. They're all laying out there dead. Please, can we hasten our medication?
Woman: O.K. There's nothing to worry about. Everybody keep calm and try and keep your children calm. Let the little children in and reassure them. [The children are given the poison first.] They're not crying from pain; it's just a little bitter-tasting.
Jones: It's hard only at first. Living is much, much more difficult. Raising in the morning and not knowing what the night's bringing.
Woman: This is nothing to cry about.
This is something we could all rejoice about. I'm looking at so many people crying. I wish you would not cry. [Applause.]
Jones: Please, for God's sake, let's get on with it. We've lived as no other people lived and loved. We've had as much of this world as you're gonna get. Let's just be done with it. I want to see you go. They can take me and do what they want, whatever they want to do. I don't want to see you go through this hell no more. No more.
Man: The way the children are laying there now, I'd rather see them lay like that than to see them have to die like the Jews did, which was pitiful. Like Dad [the cultists called Jones "Dad"] said, when they come in, they're going to massacre our children. And the ones that they take cap ture, they're gonna just let them grow up and be dummies. And not grow up to be a person like the one and only Jim Jones. [Applause.]
Jones: Let's get gone. Let's get gone.
We tried to find a new beginning. But it's too late. I don't know who killed the Congressman. But as far as I'm concerned I killed him. He had no business coming. I told him not to come.
Lay down your life with dignity. Don't lay down with tears and agony. It's just stepping over into another plane. [Crying and screaming in background.] Stop this hysterics. This is not the way for people who are socialistic Communists to die. Children, it's just something to put you to rest. Oh, God. [Continued crying.]
Mother, mother, please. Don't do this.
Lay down your life with your child. Free at last. Keep your emotions down. Children, it will not hurt. If you be quiet. [Music in background. Children still crying.] I don't care how many screams you hear; death is a million times preferable to spend more days in this life. If you knew what was ahead of you, you'd be glad to be stepping over tonight.
I call on you to quit exciting your children. Stop this nonsense. Hurry, my children, hurry. Quickly. Quickly. Quickly. No more pain. No more pain. All they do is take a drink to go to sleep. That's what death is, sleep. Have trust. You have to step across. This world was not our home.
The tape ends in a long period of silence broken only by mournful music that is made more eerie as the tape recorder's batteries seem to run down. The sound stops before the crack of the pistol shot that killed Jim Jones, presumably fired by his own hand. -
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,916666-1,00.html

Q&A: A Jonestown Survivor Remembers
No one knows more about the Jonestown massacre than journalist Tim Reiterman. He began investigating Reverend Jim Jones, the twisted leader of the Peoples
Temple cult, for the San Francisco Chronicle 18 months before Jones burst on the world's stage 30 years ago. Reiterman's articles caught the
attention of Congressman Leo Ryan, who was concerned about constituents who had joined the group. Reiterman was one of a handful of journalists who
accompanied the Congressman on a fact-finding mission to Jonestown, Guyana. On November 18, 1978, after meeting with Jones and his followers, their small
party was ambushed by Peoples Temple gunmen as they were leaving. Ryan and four others were killed; Reiterman himself was wounded. The shootings were just
the beginning of the carnage. Later that day more than 900 members of the Peoples Temple died in a mass suicide ceremony, most after they lined up to drink
poisoned Flavor Aid. (See pictures of
Jonestown).
After recovering from his injuries, Reiterman spent the next four years researching and writing a comprehensive book about the tragedy, "Raven: The Untold Story of the Rev. Jim Jones and His People," which has just been reissued by Tarcher/Penguin. The 624-page book is an extraordinary act of scholarship, the definitive account of an event that continues to fascinate and mystify. TIME senior reporter Andrea Sachs spoke to Reiterman from San Francisco, where he is now the news editor for the Associated Press in northern California.
Hear the extended interview with Tim Reiterman here:
See pictures of the cults that went wacko.
TIME: Was Jim Jones a bad person from the beginning, or did he grow into one?
Tim Reiterman: Good and evil coexisted in Jim Jones throughout his life. I really do believe, having gone back to his birthplace in Indiana and tracing his life, that the seeds of the madness that the world saw in November 1978 were there from his earliest years. He was somewhat neglected as a child. He was part of an unconventional family where his mother was the breadwinner and his father was a brooding man whose work life was cut short by mustard gas scarring from World War I on his lungs. Jones sought out acceptance and a sense of family through churches, but at the same time he had a tremendous need for power and control. He would conduct little church services up in the loft of a barn and lock his playmates in there; later he used a firearm to try to control his best friend. These early incidents, as well as some cruelty to animals, were harbingers for the sickness that grew in him over the years.
TIME: But throughout his whole life, Jones found followers. How?
Even as a kid, he was a really engaging speaker and character. He would go out and play minister. He would entertain people. He had a way of spinning words
and a power to his voice. He drew people who were basically religious for the most part in the early years. They were hard-working people, and they were drawn
initially to a rare thing in the Midwest, an integrated Christian congregation. When Jones brought his group to California, he started attracting a broader
base of people, too. Not just people from the churches, especially the black churches, but also young, idealistic, many of them college-educated people, who
wanted to belong to an organization that practiced what it preached and had a social and political component. He also built through the communal organizations
that he set up within the Temple a sense of family. At the same time, however, he was breaking down the individual family units within the Temple, and he was
getting a tighter and tighter grip on his followers, just as he locked up his playmates in a barn in Indiana. He found ways to take control of and isolate his
members from their families and from the outside. One of the things that he did was press them to give up their belongings, sign over their houses in some
cases, sign over custody of their children. One of the cruelest things, I thought, was that he had them sign false confessions that they had sexually molested
their children-which, of course, left those members vulnerable and bound them in a perverse way to the church.
TIME: Is it true that his followers were disenfranchised people, people outside of society?
The short answer is no. The people who were attracted to the Temple did, for the most part, have one common trait. They were altruistic. They wanted to be part of something larger than themselves. So in that sense they were seekers, but in the main they were hard-working, functioning individuals who had lives that were ordinary in most senses. They had a need to join an organization where they were doing something meaningful. Keep in mind that this was in the post-civil rights and post-Vietnam eras, and a lot of young people, in particular, and older ones, too, were looking for some outlet for their desire to do things for their fellow man.
TIME: What was your impression of Jones when you interviewed him in Guyana?
He did not appear to be well. His skin appeared sallow. His eyes were almost gelatinous. His handshake seemed rather weak, and when he spoke there was a constant undercurrent of paranoia. He even seemed to put a figurative gun in the hands of us journalists, saying we don't need to shoot him, that our words have that kind of effect. He was clearly viewing himself as a martyr and it was very bothersome to realize that over 900 lives were in the hands of this man.
TIME: When you and the Congressman's group got ready to leave Jonestown, what happened?
Fifteen people stepped forward [asking to leave], including one entire family, and much of another family, and both of these families were long-time followers of Jim Jones dating back to Indiana days. The mood of Jonestown grew darker as this day went on, and late in the afternoon the clouds turned black and there was this freakish wind that just tore through the pavilion as I was talking with Jones. Then there was this torrent of rain. He basically said that the Temple was being destroyed from within, and what he meant by that was that these defectors-were going to tell the world eventually what was really going on inside Jonestown, and that the end was drawing near. So it was a very ominous moment before we even left Jonestown.
TIME: What happened when you went to your plane?
During that boarding procedure, a Temple tractor and trailer full of gunmen raced towards us. They jumped out and they started firing. That's when I was hit by gunfire as I was trying to take cover behind one of the plane wheels. Fortunately I was only hit in the arm a couple of times and was able to jump up and sprint to the jungle and take cover. When I came out a few moments later, I saw that the Congressman had been killed, that three of the newsmen had been killed-including my partner on that trip, San Francisco Examiner photographer Greg Robinson-and one of the defectors also was killed.
TIME: Do you think that the 900 deaths that immediately followed were suicides, or were they murders?
I believe that this was a mass murder. First of all, there were over 200 children who could not have formed the intent to commit suicide. Second, Jim Jones had isolated his people and conditioned them through suicide rehearsals and mock sieges to accept death. Third, he orchestrated the events on that final day so that the outcome was never in doubt. He had gunmen go shoot the Congressman. Then he turned around to his followers, once he got news the Congressman was dead, and announced it. He said, now some among us have done something that's going to cause the army to come in here and nobody will be safe. Let's bring forward the potion and let's bring the children first. By having the children die first, he sealed the fate of their parents and other elders, because no one would have any reason to live. As this was all going on, the pavilion was surrounded with armed guards with guns and crossbows, so people were not going to go anywhere. Many appeared to have been injected with poison.
TIME: What happened to Jones himself?
Jim Jones was found with a single bullet wound to the head, pretty much a contact wound. I believe that he either shot himself or was shot by a close aide as he had planned.
TIME: Do you think about Jonestown now?
I think about it every day. I think about the people, the 900 people I saw who were young and old and vibrant and talented and performing on that first
evening when I met them. I think about those images of their bodies in piles and final graves that have been used again and again and again. I think about what
happened on the airstrip, too. I don't replay those events every day in full, but they cross my mind. When you're part of something like the events in
Jonestown, they become part of you.
http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1859903-1,00.html
Cult Leader, the Rev. Jim Jones
The Peoples Temple Agricultural Project, as it was formally known, was founded in the 1950's by Indiana native James Warren "Jim" Jones, who
preached a quasi-socialist philosophy that he called "apostolic socialism." By most accounts a highly paranoid man, Jones relocated his group to the
South American nation of Guyana in 1974, in order to avoid increasing media scrutiny in the U.S. and, in his words, to create a "socialist paradise"
and community based on his own communal-agrarian ideals.



