The Road to Jonestown

by Jeff Guinn

  Lane worked fast. On September 27 he provided Jones with a memo titled “COUNTER OFFENSIVE,” which laid out plans for Temple attacks on its enemies in the courts and through the press. From its opening line, “Even a cursory examination reveals that there has been a coordinated campaign to destroy the Peoples Temple and impugn the reputation of its leader Bishop Jim Jones,” all ten pages stridently supported Jones’s paranoia. Lane’s final point particularly fueled Jones’s certainty that the U.S. Congress was particularly a den of enemies: “The efforts of the members of Congress have created a problem and should be met head on.”

  With Jones’s blessing, Lane launched the “public relations counter offensive” described in the memo with a San Francisco press conference on October 3. Most Bay Area media sent reporters and camera crews. The lengthy event—a transcript required thirty-three pages—featured Lane at his flamboyant best. He announced that “I am now satisfied beyond any question” that all charges and allegations against Jones and Peoples Temple were supported by “American intelligence organizations. . . . It makes me almost weep.” Lane invited questions from the press, using them as a basis for his own extrapolations. A query about shots being fired in Jonestown elicited a colorful, convoluted Lane response about potential attacks by mercenaries wielding rocket launchers and bazookas. When a reporter protested, “You’re weaving a fabric of plausibility, and we’re asking you for specifics,” and Lane was subsequently pressed to offer any documentation that the CIA was involved, the lawyer neatly countered, “Where haven’t [CIA agents] been before Jonestown?”

  As Lane intended, coverage included his most inflammatory accusations. Jones was thrilled. Recently, Guyanese justice Bishop withdrew from the Stoen case, and Chief Justice Harold Bollers announced that court proceedings would have to begin from scratch. For the first time, there appeared to be cause for optimism. Even Charles Garry’s petulant threat to “quit in ten days if [Lane] talks to the press anymore,” didn’t dismay him. Jones sent the San Francisco attorney word that Lane “gained us immense ground.”

  No ground was gained in the effort to move from Guyana to the USSR, however. Two days before Lane’s press conference, Feodor Timofeyev made his long-delayed visit to Jonestown. During a lavish dinner, Jones hailed the Soviet Union as “Jonestown’s spiritual mother.” Timofeyev told Tim Carter, “[Jonestown is] more socialist than us. We should take lessons from you.” But back in Georgetown, Timofeyev repeated that he’d received no response yet from his government regarding the Jonestown request. Sharon Amos asked if Jones and John Victor, at least, could emigrate. Timofeyev replied that a decision must be made about the Temple as a whole before there could be consideration of individual cases.

  In mid-October, Marceline Jones visited her family in Indiana. While she was in Richmond, Marceline invited her parents to return with her to Jonestown for a brief visit. When they agreed, she contacted the San Francisco temple office and asked them to radio a personal request from her to Jonestown. Marceline wanted her parents told that she and Jones slept in separate cottages because she worked days and he was up working all night. Appearances remained important to her.

  While Marceline was gone, Jones selected nineteen-year-old Shanda James as his latest lover, a departure for him because she was black. There was another difference: Shanda was honored by Dad’s interest, but told him that she liked someone else. Jones responded by having Shanda drugged and confined to the Extended Care Unit. Occasionally, he had the groggy girl taken to his cottage, where, Tim Tupper Jones later told Lawrence Wright of The New Yorker, “He fucked her whenever he wanted to.”

  With Lane on the public relations offensive in the United States, Jones, in his coherent moments, focused most on finances and Russia. He appointed a Money Making Project Committee that included Harriet Tropp, Jack Beam, Michael Prokes, Johnny Brown, and Gene Chaikin, who wasn’t confined in the Extended Care Unit since, for the moment, Jonestown had no visitors. Soon afterward, Chaikin, on behalf of the group, described Jonestown’s financial dilemma so starkly in a memo that even Jones could not misinterpret the message: “We do not feel that as the community is now structured it can ever be financially self-sufficient . . . and we see that historically small, self-contained communities have always failed. . . . We will not be [self-sustaining] as long as we spend most of our time fighting rear guard actions . . . so long as we have to cover our ass, so long as p.r. has priority over production.”

  Jones and the committee considered new methods of raising money. Perhaps Peoples Temple, which eschewed alcohol for its members, could operate a chain of nightclubs. A meeting memo noted, “dance floor, juke box . . . live music. There is nothing like it here. Guyanese love to party and they have lots of money [here] and no facilities [to spend it].” Another group, the Jonestown Steering Committee, was included in further deliberations. Tim Carter remembers, “It was decided that Jonestown might start buying businesses. We also planned two restaurants in Georgetown, and Patty Cartmell and Rheaviana Beam opened a curio shop. It was ironic—the great socialists could only survive by becoming capitalists.”

  But the numbers still didn’t add up. It was estimated that nightclubs and other new business ventures might bring in a net monthly income of $25,000 to $40,000. Jonestown would still run a minimum monthly deficit of $100,000. In his numerous foreign bank accounts, Jones had the financial wherewithal to make up the difference, but even those resources totaling an estimated $30 million or more couldn’t stem the tide of red ink longer than twenty-five or thirty years. Jim Jones was forty-seven, and, despite his declarations of poor health, might well live long enough to see Jonestown, his grand statement of socialist convictions and proof of personal greatness, dwindle away in bankruptcy. If he was remembered at all, it would be as a failure. This was unthinkable. His committee predicted permanent insolvency for Jonestown “as [it] is now structured,” but that was in the Guyanese economy. The USSR was different. State support there would make the difference. Chaikin, Richard Tropp, and Tom Grubbs were given a new assignment: finalize a list of potential sites for Russian relocation. As soon as the Soviet government agreed to take in Peoples Temple, negotiations could begin regarding not only when, but where. On October 25, they submitted their report, which suggested “the east coast of the Black Sea, south of the Caucasus Mountains” as the ideal area, and then listed several alternatives. As soon as relocation was approved, Jonestown should send an inspection team to evaluate any suggested site for “suitability for our people.”

  But during meetings in Georgetown, Timofeyev was no longer being cordial to Sharon Amos. In response to her latest request for a relocation update, he snapped that the question of Temple emigration had become “a big headache.” Perhaps the number of settlers allowed to relocate would be limited; the Soviet government feared that the CIA might sneak in a spy as part of the group. Amos, aghast, warned that the decision was taking so long that Jones might interpret it as a no. Timofeyev said that wasn’t the case—his leaders simply needed more time. Meanwhile, Jones continued telling his followers that moving to Russia was a given.

  On October 26, Marceline and the Baldwins arrived in Jonestown. Tim Carter left the same day, returning to San Francisco to deliver documents to be used by Charles Garry against Concerned Relatives. While he was in America, Carter received permission to visit his father in Idaho. During the side trip, he ate hamburgers, drank wine, and smoked. It was pleasant playing hooky, but after a few days he wanted to return to Jonestown. “Gloria and our son Malcolm were there, so I decided that’s where my life was, no matter what.” But instead of flying back to Guyana, Carter was instructed to return immediately to San Francisco, where Terri Buford had just defected.

  When Mark Lane returned to his home in Memphis, Tennessee, after his San Francisco press conference, Buford stayed in the city, living and working in the Geary Boulevard temple, doing long-distance work for Lane and other Temple-assigned tasks as needed. She secretly made a flight reservation for New Y
ork on October 30, and informed other Temple staff that she had a dental appointment on the same day and time. After arriving in New York, she called Lane, who she suspected wasn’t entirely loyal to Jones. Buford remembers, “[Lane] said he would hide me in Memphis if in exchange I’d help him write a book about the Temple. I wanted to get away where they couldn’t find me, so I said that I would. Mark had a little apartment in Washington, D.C., and for a while before I went to Memphis he had me stay there.”

  After Debbie Layton’s defection and subsequent blossoming into a prime source for negative media coverage, Jones was desperate not to let another young, well-informed female follower get away. Tim Carter was assigned to track Buford down. Earlier in the year, Jones had contemplated ordering Carter to pretend he had defected, then infiltrate Concerned Relatives as a spy. Now that seemed like an ideal means of locating Buford if, like Debbie Layton, she tried contacting the group immediately after defecting. Buford wasn’t with Concerned Relatives, but Carter told its members anyway that he had defected. He also spoke with Suzanne Cartmell, Jones’s estranged daughter. “That day’s [San Francisco] Chronicle had a story about Leo Ryan planning to go to Jonestown,” Carter says. “Suzanne was freaked by that, because that information wasn’t supposed to be public yet. They didn’t want Jones to know.” As soon as Jones did—someone from the Temple’s San Francisco office contacted him immediately—Carter’s assignment was changed again. Now he was charged with finding out all that he could about Ryan’s intended visit.

  “I went to see Elmer and Deanna Mertle in Berkeley,” Carter recalls. “They were part of Concerned Relatives, but they both only seemed to want to destroy the Temple, not rescue anyone. Ryan’s official plan was supposed to be, he would come alone with no Concerned Relatives or media, but it seemed clear that he would be coming with lots of them. He’d told [Concerned Relatives] that he expected to be turned away at the Jonestown gate, and then he would go back to the USA and schedule [congressional] hearings about Jonestown starting in February 1979. He told them that the only legal authority the U.S. government would have to act was if American citizens were being held there against their will. So if he didn’t get in, Ryan could claim that, and if he did get in and even one person left with him, and then that person testified about nobody being allowed to leave, [Ryan] would have proof. So either way, he’d win.”

  Jones took Carter’s report from California hard. Charlotte Baldwin, his mother-in-law, was still in Jonestown when he learned the details of Ryan’s plan. She said later that Jones appeared “very near a mental collapse.” The situation deteriorated rapidly. On November 1, Ryan formally wrote to Jones, notifying him of his intention to come. Ryan acknowledged that “my office has been visited by constituents who are members of your church, and who expressed anxiety about mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters who have elected to assist you in the development of your church in Guyana. . . . It goes without saying that I am most interested in a visit to Jonestown.” Ryan asked Jones to respond to Ambassador Burke at the embassy in Georgetown “since the details of our trip are still being arranged.” Ryan added that he was acting as a member of the House Committee on International Relations.

  Five days later, Mark Lane replied on behalf of Jones and the Temple, charging that “various agencies of the U.S. government” were actively persecuting the church, which currently had offers from two foreign nations for relocation of Jonestown, with the apparent implication that these were the USSR and Cuba: “You may judge, therefore, the important consequences which may result in the creation of a most embarrassing situation for the U.S. Government.” Still, Lane did not entirely dismiss the possibility of Ryan visiting Jonestown. “A date which would be convenient for all of us should be arrived at through discussion.”

  Ryan’s written reply was sharp: “No persecution, as you put it, is intended, Mr. Lane. But your vague reference to the creation of the most embarrassing situation for the American government does not impress me at all.” He was coming in mid-month. Lane made clear that he wanted to meet with Ryan in advance of the trip, and if Ryan was admitted into Jonestown, Lane would accompany him.

  The Guyanese government was almost as unhappy as Jones at the prospect of Ryan’s arrival. “We considered Ryan coming here to be a damned nuisance,” Kit Nascimento says. “It seemed to us that he was just some U.S. congressman looking for publicity. The American embassy contacted us on [Ryan’s] behalf to seek protection for him while he was in Guyana. Our response was, ‘Protect him from what?’ Burnham’s attitude toward Ryan’s visit was, these people in Jonestown have broken no laws of Guyana. If you want to interview some of them, get their permission. You can’t just show up here, demand that our government follow all of your instructions, and make them let you in. Burnham refused . . . to intervene in any way.”

  On November 7, Jones did admit an outside guest, U.S. consul Douglas Ellice. It was the fourth inspection visit of the year by American officials and followed routine. Ellice was treated to a sumptuous lunch, interviewed settlers whose families had expressed concern for their well-being—all of them assured Ellice that they were happy—and returned to Georgetown not certain what to believe. The accusations from back in the States were strident, but Jonestown seemed at least functional, if not in any way luxurious.

  About the same time, the dozen or so members of the Jonestown basketball team left by boat from Port Kaituma for Georgetown, where they were scheduled to play a few exhibition games against the Guyanese national team over the next weeks. Jones initially refused them permission to go, but Stephan and Jimmy, who was back in the settlement for a while, had their mother intercede. Marceline told Jones that the games would be more proof to the Guyanese government that everything was fine in Jonestown. The players were thrilled at the chance to get away from settlement tension. “Any time we got out of there for Georgetown was like living a dream,” Jim Jones Jr. says. “We could go to the movies and places to eat. We were going to have fun and play ball.” Their departure caused a significant change in the makeup of Jones’s bodyguards and settlement security. His sons and some of the other players comprised much of both groups’ leadership. The remaining members of the gun-toting forces consisted of Jones’s most fervid male followers. They felt honored to serve their leader and would follow his orders without hesitation.

  Before the team left, Jones gave them a pep talk in front of the other settlers. He also mentioned, “I heard some congressman wants to come here. I think I’ll tell him to stick it.” In private, his wife and lawyers were frantically trying to convince him otherwise. A radio message from the attorneys advised, “Charles and Mark feel very strongly that Ryan should come in.” Otherwise, “he’d have hearings and all of that stuff.” Marceline’s argument was simpler: Jonestown didn’t have anything to hide. If a few settlers wanted to leave when Ryan came, let them.

  Jones still dithered. He ordered staff at Lamaha Gardens to prepare a resolution declaring that Jonestown settlers “will not see or communicate” with “Ryan, any member of the so-called ‘Concerned Relatives’ organization, or persons associated with either of them.” The resolution also noted that “the Jonestown community has requested police assistance from the Government of Guyana to protect their community from unwanted trespasses.” Carolyn Layton sent additional instructions for staff there to meet with Deputy Minister Mingo, requesting that he deliver the resolution refusing Jonestown access to Ryan, and that he “refuse the assistance of the Guyanese government” to the congressman. Mingo wouldn’t meet with Sharon Amos until November 14, and, when he did, he shouted at her that he had more to do than take care of Jim Jones and Jonestown.

  The Jonestown settlers weren’t sure if Ryan was coming in or not. Most were apprehensive. Jones’s constant warnings about children being forcibly taken had their effect. But a few saw Ryan’s visit, or at least Jones’s preoccupation with it, as an opportunity. Some of the Parks and Bogue families were restless and wanted to leave. Monica B
agby and Vern Gosney, both young adults, felt that they’d had enough. If Ryan came and offered the opportunity to leave under his protection, they would probably take it. Two other families had been plotting a jungle escape for some time. If Ryan arrived in Jonestown and all eyes were on him, they would try to sneak away. One or two risked mentioning their plan to other disaffected settlers. Though remaining a minuscule percentage of all nine-hundred-plus Jonestown settlers, the number of potential defectors during a Leo Ryan visit grew.

  Carolyn Layton combined love for Jim Jones with absolute devotion to the Temple cause. She could be calculating, even cold, and she felt that the time had arrived for ultimate pragmatism. Carolyn prepared and presented to Jones a neatly typed “Analysis of Future Prospects” that succinctly declared long-term hope for Jonestown in its present form was lost. Lawsuits and government agency investigations would drain the Temple’s financial reserves. On a positive note, support from the Guyanese government might be grudging, but ought to be ongoing so long as Jonestown was useful as a border buffer against Venezuela. But the CIA apparently believed Jones was about to lead an armed revolution in Guyana: “The traitors may have convinced them of this . . . that is why they see us as such a terrible threat to be destroyed.” One possibility was for Jones to flee to Cuba, taking “the children” (John Victor and Kimo) with him while Carolyn stayed behind “to hold the project together here. . . . I was just trying to think of a way the little boys could have a dad for a while.”