Leslie’s Blog

Eternally Grateful

        On this day, November 18^th, my life changed forever. November 18^th is the memorial day of Jonestown, Guyana. But it goes deeper than just those of us in Jonestown, it changed forever the lives of  Peoples Temple members and families who were left in the United States; who listened in pain, agony and disbelief as the news flashed before them images of swollen dead bodies of those that they loved and knew. My son Jakari’s life changed forever; he lost a father, grandmother, uncle, aunt and cousins he would never know the love of and still suffers the trauma of Jonestown. And not just Peoples Temple members or Jonestown survivors, but those family and friends of slain Congressman Leo Ryan, NBC correspondent Don Harris, NBC soundman Bob Brown, newspaper photographer Greg Robinson, Patricia Parks a defector who was searching for freedom only to be killed… generations affected forever. To the now U.S. Senator Jackie Spier who laid wounded and bleeding in Guyanese soil, not knowing if she was going to live or die, to Tim Reiterman, the reporter who was also wounded at the airstrip who had been investigating Peoples Temple for 18 months and who authored “Raven” which unravels so much. The other Jonestown defectors; Monica Bagby shot and injured, Vern Gosney shot and injured, the Bogue’s and the remainder of the Parks family-all trying to leave a hell called Jonestown-lives changed forever.

     How many times over the years when the news shows the same images, do I find myself scanning quickly to see if I recognize my loved ones. My mom was wearing a beige jumpsuit I lent here…but thank God I can never find her in the carnage, it would be more painful.

     Today marks the 32^nd year and as I do every year I take a day off from work and relive that day and days afterwards. It is painful, yes, but even now, there are times when I can’t believe what I lost. God has held me up for 32 years even when I could not hold myself up.

     As it happened, writing Slavery of Faith (www.slaveryoffaith.com) became the turning point in which I found the “peace” that had eluded me for so many years. It helped with the healing of my heart, mind and soul. The journey continues to transcend to a deeper spiritual understanding. For that I am eternally grateful. If this life ended today – with the closure, forgiveness, joy and such a love of God as I have found – I would leave with all this in my heart and soul. My God, could I ask for more, certainly not.

     The reaction to the book has been humbling and has definitely changed the direction of my life. Its message has carried itself across a range of institutions, from churches – which I expected – to the military, civic associations and other organizations that I did not anticipate. The people I talk to are amazed to hear that 33 people walked out of Jonestown, and that nine of them were African American, escaping through the jungle with the story of going on a picnic. No one stopped us to say “How are you going on a picnic with no food?” Jonestown was not like home… there was no refrigerator you could go to when you got hungry. Yet, God’s design was to provide a story so unbelievable, no one could get their head around it and say “what?” It was too outrageous for it to even register – yet the gate of freedom was before us.

     The reader demographics of my book sales show that people are of all ages and have come from all walks of life. Many responses have told me that they have found hope and forgiveness. My forgiveness of Jim Jones and the freedom it allowed is encouraging for most. I explain that forgiving him allowed me to forgive myself. If we have been forgiven, how can I not forgive?

    I remember at one gathering of over 200 people this past year, it was my first engagement with an audience of this size, but I decided to open up the room for questions. Not sure what would come, I took  deep breath and said to myself, whatever they are – remember that they are searching for understanding. I knew my goal was to not only share the testimony, but give people an opportunity have a conversation with someone who actually experienced the Temple and Jonestown. In the past they only had the media to give them pieces, but never the full view.  At times the questions were raw but I felt good that the audience was comfortable enough to ask the questions that they had.

    The most common questions are:

1). How could so many people follow this man?

2). Did they not see what was happening in the United States?

3). Were people happy in Peoples Temple and Jonestown?

4). Did they all commit suicide?

5). Did Jim Jones sleep with me and all the women/men?

6). Why did I go to Jonestown

    At no time do I answer for anyone but myself. I do not begin to try to represent 918 lost souls. Everyone went to Jonestown for different reasons, suffered through for different reasons. My responses are from my understanding and experience alone. I speak of being so tired of the madness that I had to hang on to the strength of a God I did not even know. After all, we had a man we called “Father” who called himself God. Would God even hear me, as I had committed blasphemy and turned my back on him? He was a myth at that point – a thought like the thin light that comes through the sky at the time of sunrise, which you catch in a glimpse out of the corner of your eye. That was the amount of my understanding, but through that foundation of my grandparents’ faith and exposure to God, that allowed me not to give up. When I prayed, I wasn’t sure if my prayers would ever be answered, but I kept myself focused on knowing somehow God would hear me and respond.

    My position of faith is humbling and oh so awesome. The comments I receive are praises to me for being so young and being so brave and having Faith and coming through 31 years of pain, and finally finding redemption. And I always reply the credit does not go to me. All the credit goes to the love of God, for if you ask, you shall receive. I can say in this Faith walk that those that were left behind lost the connection with the true God years before. We can not have anything without knowing God – whether you call it the Universe, the Creator, pure unconditional love – and we will not excel nor exceed without it.

     The people of Jonestown laid their faith at the feet of a maniac (except for the children). My Jonestown family – even my mother – turned their backs on God a long time ago. The lessons of Jonestown were brutal. The reality can not be sugar-coated nor can the people be considered martyrs to anything, for that is not so. They died because they believed in a man – a human – and they disconnected with God. Do I blame them? No! The strategy to break the human spirits was swift and calculating. Humans can not be mentally tortured, physically starved, and emotionally turned upside down, and still continue to think clearly.

    You must develop a personal relationship with God. In your houses of worship, your minister is a man/woman just like you. If something does not sound correct, research. We speak of wanting a person who teaches the word – it is your responsibility to ensure that what is being shared with you is the word. Do not for once doubt your God sense speaking to you, but it is also your responsibility to take charge of your own spiritual development. God speaks to all of us – not just a chosen few. Tap into your divineness for it exists. God’s love is unconditional, inclusive and loves us all.

     Finally, I have taken responsibility for this gift of my life. It has made me aware daily that I was spared for this very purpose. I go to bed praying for God to continue to use me and work every day to represent in a way that is pleasing to God. My daily bread is the love of God; my thirst is quenched living a humble life, to serve.

     Does it get lonely? Absolutely! The beauty is that during the time of my self-destructive life, I was blessed with two additional children who kept me going and am further blessed with three grandchildren. I miss my mom, sister, brother, niece and nephew every day. But in those moments of solitude when the tears still flow in remembrance, I look up and say “Thank you for loving me. Thank you, for you saved a wretch like me.”

     Be blessed, I am.

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