Meiers and JONESTOWN

[Anthony Thorne]

XIII THE WHITE NIGHT

The assassination of Congressman Ryan and the mass suicide murder that followed was not the flippant reaction of a crazed preacher but a calculated political assassination and medical field test that had been planned or at least outlined ever since Jim Jones ordered the first White Night rehearsal five years earlier. The demise of Jonestown is an historic incident that has been widely reported, so rather than duplicate the heretofore published accounts, this chapter will explore some of the behind-the-scenes activities that occurred before, during and after the White Night.

A major item in Jones' preparation was the safety of the agency's personnel who had been assigned as his middle-management in the experiment. The exodus began several months before Ryan's visit when top Temple aides like Deborah Layton, Terri Buford, Bonnie Thielmann, Tim Stoen, and Stoen's wife, Grace Grech, feigned their defection from the Temple to disassociate themselves from the scheduled carnage in Jonestown and to help orchestrate the event from outside the organization. Thielmann and the Stoens would accompany Ryan to Guyana, but only as far as Georgetown, relying on the limited number of charter airplane seats as their excuse for not accompanying him to Jonestown and what they knew would be his death. There were other ways to "escape" the Peoples Temple. Lisa Layton staged her own death just eighteen days before the Event. Other top aides were conveniently sent to Georgetown just prior to the massacre. Jones' son Stephan and several others were in the capital for a basketball tournament with the Guyanese National Team. Beatrice Grubbs, Jonestown's resident expert on U.S. tax legalities, was also in Georgetown, missing the mass suicide for a dentist appointment of dubious necessity as, reportedly, Guyanese dentists regularly visited Jonestown to provide one of the few medical services beyond the abilities of the Jonestown clinic. But, for all the shuffling and positioning of people just prior to the Event, the story of one Gordon Lindsay is most interesting.

As shown earlier, the CIA's activities in Guyana were always conducted with the full cooperation of British Intelligence and Jonestown was no exception. In the early 1960's, Jones and the CIA had worked with the British in a cooperative effort to establish Forbes Burnham as Prime Minister of what was then a British colony. It was Phil Blakey, a British subject, whom Jones sent to Guyana to command the early stages of Jonestown when the site was used as a training camp for mercenaries bound to fight in Angola's Civil War. From the perspective of British Intelligence, the South American mission would always be closely connected with African politics. So it was with no great surprise that a British subject with experience in reporting African affairs be enlisted to tie up the loose ends and cover British tracks in the final stages of Jonestown. Such a man was Gordon Lindsay.

After a career reporting African political uprisings from the British point of view, Gordon Lindsay emerged as a freelance reporter in Los Angeles in 1978. He was working for the National Enquirer on an expose of the Peoples Temple; an expose that Jones loudly protested and that was never published. Jones claimed (in a conversation with Temple attorney Mark Lane) that the publisher of the National Enquirer worked for the CIA as demonstrated by his ability to convince the U.S. Embassy in Georgetown to intercede on Lindsay's behalf to acquire an extension on his Guyanese visa. It was rather odd that the U.S. government would ask a South American country to help an Englishman. Both Lindsay and Jones made a big fuss over an incident in which Lindsay flew very low over Jonestown in a plane he had chartered in Trinidad. Jones complained to Guyanese authorities that Lindsay's low altitude aerobatics so frightened an elderly resident that the woman had a heart attack and died. According to Lindsay, in all the months he spent on assignment in Guyana, this was as close as he was able to get to Jonestown. Actually, the incident successfully established Lindsay as an enemy of the Peoples Temple and provided several aerial photographs of Jonestown that impressed Will Holsinger (son equally of Joe Holsinger) whom Congressman Ryan had hired to investigate the activities of the Peoples Temple. In his conversations with Holsinger in California, Lindsay learned of Leo Ryan's congressional inquiry into Jonestown and suggested the Congressman invite the press to accompany him for some degree of protection on what could be a dangerous mission. Ryan, who always played to the cameras, agreed and Lindsay took it upon himself to invite the newsmen he wanted to attend. He convinced the National Broadcasting Corporation, the Washington Post, the San Francisco Chronicle and the San Francisco Examiner to assign specific reporters to the congressional junket.

Lindsay managed to be hired as a guide by the 4 NBC-TV news crew, headed by Don Harris, with reporter Bob Flick, cameraman Bob Brown and sound man Steve Sung. They were NBC's combat crew, having covered the Vietnam War individually. The Washington Post assigned their Argentina correspondent, Charles Krause. The San Francisco Chronicle's first choice was their resident expert on the Peoples Temple, Marshall Kilduff, but they feared that Kilduff's presence might aggravate Jones, who had publicly protested the reporter's expose of his organization. They decided instead to send Ron Javers, a recent addition to their staff whose prior journalistic experience dealt primarily with investigating prison conditions in Pennsylvania and a bizarre Black cult known as "MOVE." The San Francisco Examiner assigned their award-winning journalist, Tim Reiterman and cameraman Greg Robinson. When the roster of newsmen was complete, Lindsay radioed the list to Jonestown. Jones, in turn, informed the U.S. Embassy in Georgetown, which forwarded his report to the State Department in Washington. Including Lindsay, the news crew numbered eight, of whom five would return alive.

After several tactical delays in Georgetown (which most agree were engineered by Jones), Gordon Lindsay boarded the chartered plane to Port Kaituma and Jonestown. On board were Congressman Ryan; Jackie Speier, the Congressman's assistant; Dick Dwyer, the Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassy; Neville Annibourne, an official of the Guyanese Ministry of Information; Attorney Mark Lane, representing Jones; Attorney Charles Garry, also representing Jones; Jones; eight newsmen, including Lindsay; and as many Concerned Relatives as there were remaining seats on the plane. Ryan was well prepared but somewhat confused about the conflicting reports he had received about Jonestown. From ex-Temple members and Concerned Relatives in California, he half-expected to find a barbed-wire concentration camp where the inmates were drugged, beaten or tortured into submission for reasons no one could explain. On the other hand, during his few days delay in Georgetown, Dick Dwyer had shown him slides and home movies which gave the impression that Jonestown was a utopia. Ryan pondered the discrepancies during his one-hour flight over some of the most isolated jungle in the world. A small clearing soon appeared in the rain forest below. It was the Port Kaituma airstrip, the nearest airfield to Jonestown. The disembarking passengers were met by a contingent of Temple guards, a minister of Guyanese Region Development and a local Port Kaituma Policeman, Corporal Rudder. Rudder had no uniform, badge or credentials. His authority rested solely on the 12 (some say 30) gauge shotgun cradled by his young, sad-eyed assistant. Corporal Rudder stepped forward and announced,


I was informed by a superior officer that
Peoples Temple do not request the parties
present (to go) into the Peoples Temple..I don't
know the reasons. I was informed three days ago of
this...You can wait around.[172]

Mark Lane and Charles Garry emerged from a conference with the Temple guards to say that Congressman Ryan, Jackie Speier and Dick Dwyer had been given permission to enter Jonestown. They boarded the Temple's dump truck for the fifteen mile trip through the jungle to the remote settlement, leaving the reporters and the Concerned Relatives sequestered on the airstrip with Corporal Rudder and his unidentified assistant. Corporal Rudder escorted Don Harris to a shack in the village where Harris radioed Rudder's superiors to confirm his story and see if he could arrange for permission to visit Jonestown. Meanwhile, those on the hot and humid airstrip had sent one of the locals into the village for two cases of cold Banks Beer. They relaxed in the shade of a passenger shed and it was there that the young constable with the shotgun began telling them stories about Jonestown. He spoke of escapees who reported brutal treatment in the encampment and of strange night-time activities at the Port Kaituma airstrip that Temple members lit with red flares for mysterious landings in the dark. It was the beginning of a special relationship between the press and the young constable who carried the shotgun that would be used to kill Congressman Ryan.

After about two hours of waiting, a Temple farm tractor appeared in the clearing. A Caucasian woman standing behind the Black driver announced, "Everyone who wants to come out to Jonestown can come, except Gordon Lindsay. The truck is coming now."[173] Unlike Tim Reiterman or Ron Javers' colleague, Marshall Kilduff, Gordon Lindsay had never written a published article on the Peoples Temple, yet he was singled out as the only one denied entry into Jonestown. He accepted Jones' wish without protest or even a display of disappointment and, while the others boarded the truck for the forty-five minute ride to Jonestown, Lindsay boarded the twin engine Otter for its return flight to Georgetown where he filed his co-reporters' first stories. For the next several critical days, he would remain in the safety of the Pegasus Hotel relaying news of the historic event to the outside world.

By the time that the newsmen and relatives finally reached Jonestown, it was about seven o'clock and the sun was setting. Clearly, their visit was intended to be a night encounter. They soon joined Ryan, Dwyer, Lane, Garry and Jones in the open-air pavilion for a welcomed and reportedly delicious barbequed pork dinner. Mark Lane refused to eat the meal, choosing instead to consume a box of cough drops that he had brought with him. Some time later, Lane would be accused of coercion based on speculation that he feared that the dinner had been poisoned. In other words, Lane was an accessory in that he had prior knowledge that Jones had murder on his mind. Actually, the truth was much more basic. Jones had intentionally served a very healthful pork dinner to the guests, which included his Jewish attorney. No sooner had they finished eating than the evening's entertainment began with the singing of the Guyanese National Anthem and a rendition of "God Bless America." The very professional rock and roll band, the "Jonestown Express" took the stage directly in front of the visitors to accompany a number of entertainers like the "Soul Steppers" dance team and an elderly Black singer comedienne billed as the "Moms Mabley of Jonestown." The evening was well orchestrated in more ways than one. If Ryan and the newsmen didn't have a a mouthful of food, they had an earful of noise. Conversation had been reduced to screaming above the electrically-amplified music. Ryan did manage to comment to one of the newsmen regarding the strange, trance-like reactions of some of the elderly residents to music that ordinarily appeals only to the young. He said their reactions were "unnaturally animated." His implication was that they were drugged. Jackie Speier was quoted as telling Ryan, "There is no question in my mind that there is mind control being exercised here. While the band played on, the print media reporters interviewed Jones though the music was so loud that they couldn't even record the shallow exchange. The NBC news crew wandered about the Pavilion filming the residents and their visiting relatives. Though they wanted to see more of Jonestown, it was easy to confine them to the pavilion area as they were reluctant to venture into unlit areas as this was the middle of the jungle at night. Ryan had come with a list of residents he wanted to see. He had a letter for Lisa Layton but was told she had died two and a half weeks earlier. He asked to see Brian Bouquet as he had promised his relatives he would do. Temple members giggled because Brian Bouquet had been standing in front of Ryan for most of the evening, playing saxophone in the "Jonestown Express." After a few interviews, Ryan took the microphone and announced to the gathering: "I can tell you right now that by the few conversations I've had with some of the folks here already this evening that... there are some people who believe this is the best thing that ever happened in their whole lives."[174] The crowd responded with a roaring, applause that is said to have lasted for twenty minutes, well past the point of embarrassment. When Ryan was again allowed to speak he joked that he was sorry they could not all vote in his congressional district. Jones yelled back that they could, by absentee ballot. Ryan replied in a serious tone, "I want to pull no punches. This is a congressional inquiry."[175]

It was about 11PM when the crowd dispersed in unison like so many fish in a school responding to some mysterious mass communication. It was obvious that the evening encounter had drawn to a close. As the residents made their way back to their cabins, Jones concluded the interview with reporters, complaining of a conspiracy to destroy the Peoples Temple. When asked who was plotting his demise, Jones responded, "Who conspired to kill Dr. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and John Kennedy? Every agency of the whole government is giving us a hard time. Somebody doesn't like socialism."[176] It was another calculated statement from the master of deceit. In so few words he gave the reporters the impression of a paranoid man with delusions of grandeur who was persecuted by the U.S. government for his socialistic beliefs. To add credence to his claim, at his side was Mark Lane, the foremost authority on the CIA conspiracies to assassinate King and Kennedy. Actually, Jones was working for the CIA which had issued a "hands off" order to the other agencies of the government permitting him to perpetuate his many crimes in the U.S. unabated. The "somebody" who didn't like socialism was Jim Jones.

Ryan, Dwyer, and the attorneys would spend the night in the Jonestown guest house that, until recently, had been occupied by Lisa Layton. The reporters were told that there was not enough room in the community to accommodate them. They said that they would be perfectly comfortable on the floor of the pavilion but Jones resisted and sent them, sleeping bags and baggage, back to Port Kaituma. As Don Harris boarded the Temple truck for the return trip he was handed a note that read, "Help us get out of Jonestown. Vern Gosney, Monica Bagby." He told only his NBC news crew.

Between the dinner, the darkness, the rock music and the deafening applause ,there was almost no opportunity for serious investigation or even conversation and the reporters left with little or nothing to show for their first day's visit to Jonestown, except an impression of Jones who, in Tim Reiterman's words, "seemed paranoid if not crazy." Jones had been manipulating the press for years and was a far better actor than they were investigators. "Crazy" was just the impression he wanted to effect.

The newsmen and visiting relatives were driven to "Mike's Disco and Rum House" where the Temple had reserved accommodations that were no better than the floor of the pavilion and not worth the bumpy, fifteen mile trip to Port Kaituma. But their comfort was not important to Jones; getting them out of Jonestown was all that mattered. The women in the group shared a bedroom while the men were told they could sleep on the kitchen floor.

By then it was after midnight and the reporters sat about the bar drinking rum and beer and discussing the events of the day with some disappointment at bp coming away with so little. Into the midst of their conversation wandered Corporal Rudder's unnamed assistant but the reporters did not recognize the young constable at first because he did not have the one thing that distinguished him from the other local Black men, his shotgun. After a few beers the young constable invited the print media reporters, Krause, Reiterman and Javers to accompany him to the village police station where he wanted to relate some information about Jonestown in private. They left the bar, one at a time, and regrouped outside so as not to alert the NBC television crew. (Reporters can be a very competitive lot.) They walked down a dirt road that followed the river, passed the Temple's ship --the "Cudjo" and into an adobe shack. It was so dark that they had to feel their way through the door. It was sometime between 2 AM and 4AM (reports vary) when the four men sat down around a wooden table in the small room lit only by a candle in a beer can.

The young constable recounted an incident that had happened a year and a half earlier when Leon Broussard escaped from Jonestown and staggered out of the jungle and into that very room. Broussard had told the constable he escaped after having been repeatedly beaten by Temple guards. He described an underground by cell used as solitary confinement for resident offenders and gave the constable directions on how to locate the torture chamber, which he did in his subsequent investigation. It was a root cellar-type cave containing a black box that resembled a coffin. When the constable asked Jones about the cave, he said it was for the storage of fresh produce though it was located in the jungle about 1/4 mile to the rear of the "Jonestown Experimental and Herbal Kitchen." What he quite accurately described was the sensory deprivation tank used, not to punish, but as an experimental tool. In the light of one candle, the constable opened a safe plastered flush in the wall. He retrieved a ledger and read the names of three Temple members who had been airlifted out of Port Kaituma two evenings before the Congressman's party arrived. One was an elderly woman, reportedly ill. The other two were middle-aged men, one with a cast on his arm, the other with a cast on his leg. The constable took their alleged injuries as additional evidence of beatings in Jonestown and their departure as Jones' desire to hide the evidence from the probing eyes of Ryan and the press. The reporters believed what is, in retrospect, a very unlikely story. Jones' techniques of punishment were far more sophisticated than breaking bones and, if he had done so, he never would have sent the victims out of his control and especially not to Georgetown where they could have told their story to Ryan and the reporters who were waiting there for permission to visit the interior. Nor would there be any medical reasons to send the three out of Jonestown. Between Larry Layton's X-ray machine and Dr. Larry Schacht's skills as a physician, the Jonestown clinic could provide as many, if not more, services as any hospital in Guyana. The chartered plane and the rather dangerous night-time landing was probably for another, more important reason. Conceivably, it was the last-minute evacuation of key agency personnel assigned to the experiment. Perhaps the woman was Lisa Layton or Charlotte Baldwin. The reporters never identified the three or even the constable who played a significant role in establishing their opinion of Jonestown. A fifth man, wearing a construction hard hat, entered the shack and, without invitation, joined in the conversation. He was introduced as the electrical engineer who, every morning at this time, shut down the town's generator as a part of a nationwide energy conservation program. HE was very, even suspiciously, knowledgeable on the subject of Jonestown. The conversation drifted to reports of automatic weapons and the constable confirmed that the government of Guyana had issued one such permit to the Peoples Temple. The discussion ended when the constable promised to accompany the reporters the next day to show them the underground torture chamber. He never did.

The reporters made their way in the dark back to "Mike's" Disco" for a few hours sleep before the Temple truck was to pick them up at the prearranged time of 8:30 AM. All three would survive the next day's carnage. All three would write books about Jonestown. All three were influenced by the unnamed constable, but none more than Tim Reiterman. It seems that Leon Broussard had left Port Kaituma and made his way back to San Francisco in the summer of 1977 to retell his story of the brutal treatment in Jonestown to none other than Tim Reiterman who doubted his claims. Now, a year and a half later and several thousand miles away, Broussard's testimony was being confirmed.

The Temple truck pulled up to "Mike's Disco" at about 10:30AM, two hours late. The driver cited mechanical problems but, in fact, his tardiness was just another means of restricting the reporters' access to Jonestown. After an uneventful trip they were greeted at the front gate by Marceline Jones who announced that a lavish breakfast and an all-day tour awaited them. Not wanting to be tricked into another non-productive day, Don Harris, the most outspoken reporter, said that they had a lot of work to do and no time for breakfast though "coffee would be nice." Impatiently looking at his watch, he said something to the effect that they would begin the tour of what they wanted to see in just a few minutes. Mrs. Jones backed off.

For the first time the reporters viewed the well-organized community in the light of day and they were both impressed and suspicious of what they saw. Everything seemed staged. A group of children lethargically played on the grounds as if they had been ordered to do so. Another group watched a children's movie on the videotape machine in the pavilion while others sat attentively in an outdoor classroom. It was Saturday and the reporters had learned that Jonestown maintained a typical Monday through Friday school week. No one seemed to be working. Everyone was relaxing in pastoral, picnic-like settings. Whenever a reporter would stray from the chosen path he was confronted by a friendly "Hi! Can I help you"? and herded back into line. They were too often told not to venture into certain areas because they would disturb the residents who were sleeping there. It was another wasted day. They did confront Jones with the constable's allegations of the presence of automatic weapons and an underground chamber; Jones denied the existence of both. The firearms had been locked away and the sensory deprivation tank long since destroyed in preparation for the day and the investigation that would inevitably follow.

Ryan announced over the public address system that anyone wishing to return to the United States with him should gather up their belongings and board the truck to the Port Kaituma airstrip. Vern Gosney, Monica Bagby, the Parks family and several others stepped forward. Jones spoke privately with each to either convince them to stay or to give them Last minute instructions. Fifteen residents, most Caucasian, wanted to leave. Jones gave each their passport and 5,000 Guyanese dollars for the passage home.

Some said they would return after visiting relatives in the U.S. Jones was noticeably shaken at little more than 1% of his followers who wanted to go home. He grasped his chest as if in pain and said to to his wife, "A pill," loud enough for the reporters to overhear. Tim Reiterman later reported that "Lovingly, his wife resisted his entreaty." Though Reiterman and the other reporters recognized that some aspects of the tour had been staged, they failed to realize that all aspects of the tour, including Jones' reference to "a pill", had been staged. They were convinced, and in turn convinced the world, of Jones' imaginary drug dependency. Their portrayal of a crazed drug addict was exactly the public image Jones needed to explain the bizarre events that would take place later that day.

From over the public address system echoed, "Bonny Simon! Bonny Simon! Please come to the radio room!" A few minutes later, a very upset Bonny Simon ran past Congressman Ryan. She was chasing after her husband Alvin and screaming, "I'll kill you! You bring those kids back here! Don't touch my kids!"[177] Alvin Simon, a full- blooded Pima Indian from Arizona, was herding his three small children towards the front gate and the truck that was about to depart for the Port Kaituma airstrip. Bonny caught up to her family near the pavilion and tried to wrestle the children from their father who obviously intended to take them back to the United States. With Ryan as an audience, Bonny and Alvin played tug-of-war with young Alvin, Jr. Ryan, Lane and Garry intervened and determined that questions of child custody should be settled in the courts. Alvin Simon conceded, deciding to remain with his children in Jonestown. Jones reassured everyone present that he would not punish Alvin for his attempt to leave and the situation calmed down. The U.S. State Department would later inform the Pima Indian tribe that Alvin Simon and his father Jose--a Pima chief and Jonestown resident--did not voluntarily drink the poison later that day. They had been injected.

Everyone was in position and everything on schedule for the planned assassination at the airstrip; that is until Ryan decided to stay another night in Jonestown to document others, like Alvin Simon, who might wish to return to the U.S. at some future date. Jones was not about to rely on some unrehearsed contingency plan to kill the Congressman. He had to force Ryan to leave. As a last resort, Jones called upon his knife expert Don Sly to get the Congressman Ryan on the road to his death.

Jones, Ryan, Lane and Garry were standing outside the pavilion when Don Sly approached the group, grabbed Ryan in a stranglehold, put a knife to his throat and screamed, "I'm gonna slit your throat you motherfucker." Ryan fell backwards on top of his attacker and the two attorneys wrestled the knife away but not before Sly reportedly cut himself between the thumb and forefinger. There was blood everywhere but mostly on the front of Ryan's shirt. Sly, an extremely strong athlete who had once trained for the Olympic swimming team, could have easily killed Ryan but the plan was not to kill him there, only to scare him into leaving for the airstrip where the assassination team was waiting. The knife attack was staged. The blood was real but it came from a Hollywood special effects capsule Sly had concealed in his hand. Ryan, obvious shaken, ghostly white and spattered with blood, still wanted to stay another night. Jones, who never apologized or showed any remorse over the incident , asked, "Does this change everything?" Ryan responded "It doesn't change everything but it does change some things." Jones assured Ryan he would have Sly arrested for the attempted murder although he had no intention of doing so.

Meanwhile, the truck loaded with newsmen, relatives and Jonestown defectors was delayed at the front gate because, according to the driver, it was stuck in the mud. Actually, they were stalling, waiting for Ryan. Back at the pavilion, Jones huddled with several of his aides as Dick Dwyer pleaded with and even ordered Ryan to leave. Finally, Ryan agreed to go with the others after Dwyer promised that he would return to Jonestown to document any other residents who might wish to leave but first he would see Ryan off at the airstrip. At that precise moment the truck was freed and Ryan and Dwyer had to run to catch up with it. Out of the huddle with Jones and running alongside the two men was the sixteenth Jonestown "defector," Larry Layton.

The ride to the airstrip was uneventful. The mood was one of relief; relief that everyone had gotten out alive, relief that Ryan had not been hurt in the knife assault, relief that it was all over--or so the thought. The only thing to spoil the moment was an apprehension everyone felt at Larry Layton's presence. Those who knew him warned the others that his defection was probably feigned, as he was too close to Jones. The truck swayed back and forth in the muddy ruts of the road built in the early days of Jonestown and into the clearing of the Port Kaituma airstrip built years earlier by United States mining concerns. The passengers disembarked and assembled in and around the only structure, a tin roofed passenger shed. Dick Dwyer quietly slipped into the village and returned with the unnamed constable before the group (which now numbered about thirty) had noticed he was missing. The airstrip was deserted except for some local onlookers and four (possibly six) armed men in Guyanese military uniforms camped near the end of the runway to guard a "disabled military plane" that someone said had a broken wheel.

Before long, two planes landed; the Otter from the day before and a six-seater Cessna that Ryan had ordered over the Jonestown radio after the defectors joined his party. It is interesting to note that just a day earlier Ryan could not charter enough seats to fly all the Concerned Relatives into Jonestown but he had no trouble arranging for this additional plane on short notice. In this story, when things worked smoothly it was because Jones wanted them to. Even with the additional plane there was still not enough room for everyone. Ryan decided that the defectors and the reporters with deadlines would be the first to fly to Georgetown; he and the others would wait for the Otter to return. Reporter Charles Krause begged defector Jim Cobb for his seat. While Jackie Speier organized the passengers and baggage, Ryan pat-searched the boarding male passengers following the advice of Dwyer and some of the defectors who suspected trouble from Larry Layton, among others. Layton managed to smuggle a handgun onto the Cessna. Everyone was milling about the two planes, except Dick Dwyer and the shotgun-toting constable who stood off the runway near the shed.

The Temple's dump truck returned and, along with a farm tractor towing a trailer, emerged from the Jonestown road and parked near the far end of the runway across from the disabled military plane. The truck remained stationary but the tractor-trailer moved down and across the runway to a vantage point between the Cessna and the Otter. When the driver of the tractor began questioning the defectors as to who was assigned to which plane, the others became alarmed and hurried to board and fly out of there before any trouble started. The tractor driver and his passenger: who rode in the high sided trailer (identified by Harold Cordell as Stanley Gieg, Tom Kice, Sr., Albert Touchette and Joe Wilson) walked over to the small group of Port Kaitumans and pushed them back out of the way. They then approached Dick Dwyer. The young constable handed them his shotgun and both he and Dwyer backed away. The Temple guards went back to the trailer and picked up automatic weapons described by survivors as M-16's. Shots were heard in the distance; probably the signal to begin the assault from the Temple guards in the dump truck. The Cessna, fully loaded, began to taxi when the shooting started. From inside the plane, Larry Layton shot Vern Gosney and Monica Bagby but, as difficult as it is to believe, he reportedly missed the pilot. According to Dale Parks, he then pointed the .38-caliber Smith and Wesson revolver at him and fired. There was noise but no bullet as if the gun had been loaded with a blank cartridge. Parks wrestled the revolver from Layton, ending that half of the attack. Meanwhile, from the trailer, marksmen fired a volley low into the crowd surrounding the Otter, hitting several below the waist. This first round was obviously intended, not to kill, but to immobilize the crowd, all of whom "hit the dirt." About half of the thirty had been shot but only Patty Parks died in the first round. She was struck high in the torso because she was bent over when the shooting began. Her death was probably an accident. Bob Brown bravely continued to film the assault as the Temple guards moved in for the kill carrying the shotgun they had confiscated from the constable. One blast to Brown's head and his brains splattered over his video camera. Greg Robinson, who had been snapping still photos as fast as he could, was the next to fall to the shotgun. With both photographers dead, the assassins turned to Ryan who lay wounded near the Otter and shot him point-blank in the head. Don Harris suffered the same fate. In all, five were dead, five seriously wounded, five slightly wounded.

The Temple assault team could have easily killed everyone at the airstrip. No one fought back and, thanks to Dwyer's advice to Ryan, no one could as they had been searched and disarmed moments before the attack. During the shooting, Bob Flick had pleaded with the Guyanese soldiers for protection or the loan of a weapon but they refused to even allow him near the disabled plane in their charge. In their words this was "Americans shooting Americans" and none of their business.

Obviously, it was not the intention of the Temple assault team to kill everyone or to stop the Jonestown defectors from leaving. The intention was to assassinate Congressman Ryan. Cameramen Bob Brown and Greg Robinson were killed just before Ryan because they were filming the assassination. Patty Parks' death was an accident. Only the motive for killing newsman Don Harris remains unclear. It is possible that he too was an intended target who had been deliberately recruited for the trip to Guyana and his death. Harris did share a common history with the other dead newsmen in their coverage of the Vietnam War. He was so close to the action that he witnessed the fall of Saigon from the roof of the U.S. Embassy. If he was an intended victim, the root of the reasoning may have been a result of his Vietnam experience. In short, he learned something he shouldn't have. But there is another very interesting, yet unfortunately unconfirmed, report that Harris' hobby was the study of Howard Hughes' connections with the CIA, which if true would be as good a motive as any for his murder.

Of the five slightly wounded, one was visiting relative Beverly Oliver, three were the print media reporters Javers, Reiterman and Krause. Krause, however, could hardly be considered wounded; his leg was scratched while he squeezed through the baggage compartment door of the Cessna for cover during the assault. The U.S. Embassy's Deputy Chief of Mission, Dick Dwyer, was the fifth, claiming to have been grazed by a bullet in the buttocks. There was blood on his pants but that's all anyone saw. His wound, if it was a wound, did not stop him from assuming command of the group after the shooting stopped and the Temple assault team retreated. Dwyer was out of the line of fire and was probably not shot as further evidenced by the fact that he waited several days before seeking any medical attention in Georgetown. Years later, he claimed to still carry a bullet that was lodged near the base of his spine, but this is pure conjecture because he has never backed his claim with hard evidence such as a verified X-ray.

Despite Dick Dwyer's support of Jim Jones prior to the incident, his leadership of the survivors of the assassination went uncontested. He was, after all, the only ranking U.S. official on the airstrip. Dale Parks recognized his authority when he brought Larry Layton and his revolver, not to the local police, but to Dwyer.

There was a commotion at the end of the airstrip and Dwyer yelled, "They're coming back! They're coming back!," which was enough of a real threat to send any ambulatory survivors scrambling for cover in the nearby high swamp grass and jungle. Only the two pilots and Dwyer remained and after, a brief conversation the pilots boarded the Cessna and took off for Georgetown with Monica Bagby, leaving the others stranded in Port Kaituma under threat of another attack. There was no pilot to fly the Otter; besides, one of its engines had been damaged in the assault. The police radio that Don Harris had used the day before was conveniently inoperative (some say broken , others missing). There were no working telephones in Port Kaituma; no way to communicate with the outside world. There was but an hour or so of daylight left and, even if the Cessna had radioed Georgetown for help, there was not enough time for a rescue plane to arrive at the unlit strip before dark. Dick Dwyer quietly confiscated the group's only flashlight. Obviously, they would have to spend the night in Port Kaituma.

While hiding in and around the village from Dwyer's imaginary second assault, Tim Reiterman was confronted by several men he believed to be locals. One stepped forward, handed him a book on CIA conspiracies and said, "We were told that you, the group with the congressman, were CIA and heavily armed."[178] Reiterman replied that he was a reporter and neither armed nor employed by the CIA. He would later report that the man's peculiar remark was evidence that Jones had primed the locals to be against the congressional inquiry. He failed to realize that, from the perspective of a Port Kaituman, all Americans were the same whether they be congressmen, Concerned Relatives, reporters, or the heavily armed CIA technicians who had filmed the entire assassination from their vantage point within the so-called "disabled" military plane.

With the exception of the constable providing the murder weapon, neither the Guyanese police nor the military (if that is who they really were) played any role in the attack other than that of witness. The they were helpless because their only armed constable had been disarmed by the assailants. The soldiers, who incidentally had not been disarmed during the attack, remained aloof to the whole affair, that is until Dick Dwyer approached them. They agreed to house the severely wounded, not in the plane that they were guarding, but in their small camp tent. With old bedsprings for litters and rum for anesthetic, the four critically wounded were carried to the tent. The dead were left lying on the airstrip overnight, during which time the bodies were looted of everything but their clothing. This has been attributed to the local natives who have a reputation for stealing anything of value that isn't nailed down but the most valuable items on the bodies were their notes on Jonestown; the missing notes that someone took from the bodies under the cover of darkness. One at a time, the survivors emerged from the jungle and returned to the airstrip after Dwyer's false alarm. Dwyer sent them to the Port Kaituma Rum Shop where he had arranged for them to spend the evening. Everyone was sheltered by sunset. The wounded in the tent certainly could not move and the others in the Rum Shop certainly would not move. They were so afraid of a second Temple assault that they sent two escorts with any of their number who exited the rear door of the shop to relieve their bladders from another evening of over indulging in drink. Between the cases of beer at the airstrip, the first evening at Mike's Disco and Rum House, and the second evening at the Port Kaituma Rum Shop, whether intentionally or not the reporters would o pass their two days in Guyana's interior under the influence of alcohol. Only Dick Dwyer remained mobile during the long night. He shuttled between the Rum Shop and the tent on the airstrip, being away from both for hours at a time.

Out of the dark and into the Rum Shop stumbled the unidentified constable, obviously drunk. "I'll kill them! I'll kill them! I'll kill them all in Jonestown!" he screamed. The reporters tried to calm him down, fearing that in his enthusiasm he might decide to kill them instead. No one suspected that, at that precise moment fifteen miles away in Jonestown, the residents were killing themselves. The constable left the Rum Shop, never to be heard from again. This man, who knew so much about Jonestown, who had such a profound influence on the reporters and the stories they told to the outside world, who provided the murder weapon to kill Congressman Ryan, has never been questioned or even identified, which exemplifies what would be a mediocre investigation into the assassination. No attempt was made to even locate the murder weapon or the Temple guard who fired the fatal shotgun blasts. Nor were several critical questions even addressed. For example, though reports vary as to the caliber of the shotgun, all agree it was a single-shot, but even if it were a double- barrel the assassin would have had to reload to have fired the four fatal shots. Where did he get the additional ammunition? Reports indicate that the constable provided only the shotgun. Was the Temple assault team equipped with just the right ammunition for the constable's gun? If so, this is evidence of collusion as the Temple guards must have had prior knowledge that Dwyer's companion would be present during the attack and would give them his gun.

As absurd a miscarriage of justice as it would appear to be, in the final analysis, a U.S. Congressman was assassinated in full view of at least four dozen people, some of whom, like the constable have never been identified or even questioned as to what they witnessed. No attempt was made to bring anyone to justice or to even locate the murder weapon. Larry Layton would be the only one tried in U.S. courts for the crime and he was charged, not with murder, but with conspiracy to murder. As to who actually killed Leo Ryan, no one seems to care and everyone has a preconceived, precontrived rationale. To a privileged few, Ryan was killed by the CIA. To the rest of the world, Ryan was killed by the crazed Jim Jones. Though both opinions are basically correct, it is still difficult to fathom that U.S. authorities would not search for the man who pulled the trigger. In the Layton trial, the prosecution not only did not indict the other Temple guards identified as members of the airstrip assault team, they did not even subpoena them to testify. The investigation into Ryan's death was sloppy to the point of suspicion.

It was early morning, California time, when the phone rang in the Foster City home of Ryan's attorney and close friend, Joe Holsinger. It was the White House informing him that Ryan had been killed in Guyana. "How do you know this?" he asked. The White House spokesman answered that CIA personnel had witnessed the assassination. To pinpoint the agent the White House was referring to is difficult as there were many on the airstrip at the time. There was the U.S. Embassy's Deputy Chief of Mission (by definition, a legal agent) who, when later asked about his employment with the CIA, gave the agency's standard, up-against-the-wall, reply, "I can neither confirm nor deny the allegation." Dick Dwyer would later leave Guyana and take up residence in, of all places, Grenada where he continued the work started by Jones in preparation for the U.S. invasion of the island nation. There is no doubt that Dwyer worked for the CIA. Then, there was Larry Layton, whose entire family had been cleared for top secret work by the federal government. Layton was too close to the true nature of the experiment to be anything but CIA. And then there were the current and former Temple members on both sides of the assault. All were top aides in a CIA operation and some realized it. Even the reporters were suspect. Charles Krause's position as the Buenos Aires correspondent for the Washington Post as well as his future work investigating political turmoil in Central and South America make it difficult, if not impossible, for him to deny at least an affiliation with the CIA. There are other suspects like the unnamed constable and the man who carried a book on CIA conspiracies through the enactment of a CIA conspiracy. But more than likely, the White House was referring to the group of CIA observers who filmed the entire event from their command center in the disabled plane that had the only operative radio outside of Jonestown. There were only three possible ways that the message could have been sent out of the interior. First, there was the Cessna that returned to Georgetown. If the message was sent by them, then one of the two pilots, or Monica Bagby, was a CIA operative. The other two possibilities were the two radios; one in Jonestown and the other in the disabled plane. Meanwhile, the assault team had returned to Jonestown to report their success. Jones switched on the reel-to-reel tape recorder to document the White Night. Into the microphone he said, "Take Dwyer to the East House." Many have seen this as a mistake on the part of Jones who supposedly thought that Dwyer had returned as he had said he would but, in reality, it was a calculated statement designed to give the impression that Jones had no knowledge of Dwyer's whereabouts or activities in order to disassociate him from the master-plan.


The Congressman is dead! The
Congressman is dead! Come to the
pavilion. What a legacy! What a
legacy! It's time to pass over.
This isn't just a suicide, it's a revolutionary suicide. Come my
children before the GDF (Guyanese
Defense Force) parachutes in here to
castrate, rape and kill.

Obviously, Jones was using the assassination as a mechanism to trigger the experiment. He had put Guyana's Prime Minister in power and neither the GDF nor any Guyanese authority were about to interfere with his project. It was all a bluff.

A few minutes earlier Jones had sent Mark Lane and Charles Garry to the East House under the armed protection of none other than Don Sly, the same man they had wrestled to the ground just a couple of hours earlier. Jones' odd selection of a bodyguard was a two-fold plan. Overall, his intention was to discredit Mark Lane and his association with Ryan's assailant after the incident was at least a vague reference to collusion. Besides, Sly got to show off the bandage on his hand that, in the minds of the attorneys, reinforced the impression that he had been injured in his attack on Congressman Ryan. Jones never intended to kill the attorneys. If Lane had been murdered in Jonestown just prior to his scheduled Congressional testimony about CIA assassinations, the press might have accused Jones of working for the CIA. Instead of taking Lane's life, Jones and the CIA decided to take his career, hence influence. The intention was to discredit Lane, hence he and Garry were allowed to "escape" the White Night. Don Sly disappeared, leaving only the Temple guards Jimmy Jones and Jim Johnson between the attorneys and the open jungle. Lane claims they convinced the guards to let them leave so they could write the truth about the Peoples Temple but the guards would have allowed them to leave anyway because that was Jones' plan. Together, Lane and Garry tore small strips of cloth from a spare pair of underwear, tied the strips to the vegetation and, like Hansel and Gretel, made their way through the jungle to Port Kaituma where the following morning they were reunited with the survivors of the airstrip attack. Later that day they would be rescued by the GDF who were obviously in no hurry to reach Port Kaituma or Jonestown. The troops didn't fly, but took the train, and then walked the last twenty miles fearing the train might be sabotaged. The delay allowed Jones the time to count bodies and record the results of the experiment.

Back at the pavilion, about a dozen staffers, under the direction of Dr. Larry Schacht and poisons expert Faith Worley, gathered around a metal vat to mix and distribute the Kool-Aid/ cyanide /tranquilizer potion, the recipe for which had been formulated some five years earlier during the first White Night rehearsal in 1973. Despite one report that Jones had threatened mass suicide by fire the year before, poisoned wine had always been the intended medium for the Temple's "Last Supper" communion. Early on, Jones had asked Faith Worley what poison to use. "Cyanide" was her reply. Jones agreed and reportedly added, "That's what the Germans used."


Recipe for Mass Suicide 15 gallons of grape drink mix

The grape Kool-Aid (many say it was actually an imitation product called Fla-Vor-Aid was as close to wine as practical but it was not a last minute substitution. Several months earlier, Jones was conducting a video-taped tour of Jonestown when he went out of his way to describe the community's stock of Kool-Aid in the supply room; another example of his offbeat sense of humor and evidence of his awareness of and plans to use the drink mix as flavoring.


100 pounds of potassium cyanide

More important than the flavoring was the cyanide, or rather the timing of the cyanide. It is critical to understand that even though Jones had rehearsed the White Night for over five years and had threatened mass suicide in 1977, he did not have the ability to carry it out until just two days before Ryan arrived in Jonestown when the Temple ship, "Cudjo" brought the plastic drum of poison from Georgetown to Port Kaituma. It was Wednesday, November 15th, when Harold Cordell unloaded the drum on the dock for the last leg of its long journey to Jonestown. Jones had purchased the cyanide compound from a chemical company in Upstate New York about the same time that the dates of Ryan's visit had been scheduled, which disproves the federal government's position that Jones did not plan the assassination or the suicide murder that followed.


Tranquilizers

Liquid Valium and Darvon were added to the potion to ease the pain of death--a twisted compassion in an inhumane act.

The medical staff filled hypodermic syringes, squeeze bottles and hundreds of paper cups with the poisoned brew. Jones called everyone to the pavilion and, with the reel-to reel tape recorder operating, he ordered the final White Night. "Please get the medication before it's too late... The GDF will be here ... Don't be afraid to die ... It's all over ... The Congressman is dead. How many are dead?"[179] He then took a few minutes to debrief the assault team before returning to the microphone. "Oh, God almighty. Patty Parks is dead."[180] Jones, who showed no remorse for the death of Ryan and the newsmen, or for that matter, the pending death of his congregation, was honestly upset with the news of Patty Parks' demise , which supports the theory that her death was an unintentional accident.

From time to time Jones left the pavilion and the services for various errands. Once he radioed the Temple's Georgetown headquarters in Lamaha Gardens to instruct them to begin their own White Night. When they asked how, Jones replied, "K-N-I-F-E" as he spelled out the murder weapon. Sharon Amos and her three children died from having their throats slit with a large knife. Some say that Amos killed her children and then herself but others claim they were all murdered by long-time Temple aide Charles Beikman, who witnessed the deaths but survived uninjured. Beikman was a Caucasian ex- Marine who operated the Temple's thrift store in Kumaha. As further evidence of premeditation, the store was closed seven days before the massacre.

The first to die in Jonestown were the babes-in-arms. On Jones' order, mothers holding small children were the first to line up in front of the vat of poison where the technicians squirted the potion into the throats of the children. The infants swallowed and screamed. "Don't be afraid," Jones reassured them. "It isn't painful, just a little bitter tasting." The very young were not a part of the experiment as they had not reached the age of reason. This first step was not to test the children but the willingness of the mothers to kill their children. Many mothers wandered aimlessly about the pavilion, holding their dead or dying offspring. In this first round, only the infants were poisoned, the mothers were not. Next to the vat of poison stood Annie Moore holding a box of colored Magic Markers. She placed a black "X" on any mother who cooperated in the murder. Their time would come soon as, clearly, the order of execution was by age.

The older children were next. One at a time they drank their paper cup of death. The adults followed and so did the trouble as many refused to drink the poison. Force-feeding would have been a waste of precious time. Uncooperative residents were captured by armed guards who had formed two concentric circles around the pavilion. The guards dragged them to the vat of poison where they were injected and somehow labelled involuntary (an essential procedure necessary to document the results of the experiment). The last to die were the seniors. Death from cyanide poisoning takes several minutes, during which time the victim suffers uncontrollably wild convulsions and finally succumbs to suffocation.

Eventually, only the guards, medical technicians and Jones were left standing. They gave three loud cheers at the successful completion of the experiment but they were not finished; there was still a lot of work to do. Corpses were counted, identified, recorded as suicide or murder and dragged by the arms to areas outside the pavilion that had been designated for the documented dead. They labored for several hours into the night.

The first outsiders to view the carnage arrived the following morning to find the dead in neat, orderly piles, head-to-head, toe-to-toe. Aside from the tropical birds pecking at the bodies, there were only two Jonestown residents found alive, a lone dog and Hyacinth Thrash, an old woman who reportedly slept through the entire White Night. Viola Burnham, wife of, the Prime Minister, was in charge of the expedition that included a contingent of Guyanese soldiers and Dr. C. Leslie Mootoo, the country's chief medical examiner. Mrs. Burnham and her guards ransacked the office, kitchen and Jones' cabin. They confiscated money, documents, weapons and just about anything of value. With the booty in hand, they then returned to Georgetown with Mrs. Thrash (who, by one report, was suspected of actually being Lisa Layton). Meanwhile, Dr. Mootoo and his two unnamed assistants stayed behind to examine the remains. Temple members Odell Rhodes, Stanley Clayton and Tim Carter (all of whom were in Guyanese custody) helped Dr. Mootoo identify and tag many of the bodies. About eight autopsies were performed on the site but, oddly, Dr. Mootoo selected only children as subjects and not Jim Jones. Eleven-year old Nawab Laurence was of particular interest as one of the medical assistants remembered the child entering the country through customs. The boy had been born a heroin addict in California. Jones had somehow (probably through Mendocino State Hospital) gained custody of the child who now lay dead. Dr. Mootoo determined that the examined had "died from asphyxia due to violent convulsions." Their stomachs contained cyanide and traces of Valium. He also reported that at least "eighty-three people had been injected with cyanide." Dr. Mootoo never addressed the unusual placement of the bodies. The "violent convulsions" of nine hundred dying people could never have resulted in the neat, orderly piles in which the corpses were found. The press would later quote Dick Gregory as saying that the positioning of the bodies was "evidence of a CIA conspiracy." Though his conclusion was correct, his rationale was ridiculously simplistic and served only to discourage anyone who might otherwise have investigated the CIA's role in Jonestown. (Dick Gregory had once co-authored a book with Mark Lane about the conspiracy to assassinate Dr. Martin Luther King).

Dr. Mootoo and his assistants worked for thirty-two hours nonstop before they ran out of energy and supplies. One account claims that forensic pathologist Dr. Robert Stein of Chicago radioed Dr. Mootoo to offer U.S. assistance but Washington never gave him permission and later denied the offer. Another account claims that Dr. Mootoo asked the U.S. for help but, regardless of who initiated the exchange, no medical personnel were sent. Dr. Mootoo would later accuse the U.S. government of suppressing his initial investigation into the deaths in Jonestown by denying him both official U.S. aid and unofficial offers to help by private citizens like Dr. Robert Stein.

Washington was very slow to react. At first they relied on the State Department's request that Guyana dig a pit and bury the dead in Jonestown. When Mayor George Moscone, the relatives of the victims and the government of Guyana refused to accept this plan, a U.S. military team was dispatched to recover the bodies. The U.S. Army's Director of Operations in South America, Colonel William Gordon, left his station in the Panama Canal Zone to command the mission. Accompanying Colonel Gordon's troops were two doctors; Dr. Lynn Cook, a forensic pathologist from the University of South Carolina Medical Center, and Dr. Bruce Poitrast, an Army surgeon. This first official U.S. delegation arrived on the scene four days after the massacre. Since Jones had ordered that most of the dead be dragged outside the pavilion's roof, the four days of intense tropical sun, rain and high humidity had greatly accelerated decomposition. Most of the bodies were inflated like balloons near the bursting point. The first chore of the U.S. recovery team was to bayonet the bodies to release the internal gases. Over nine hundred corpses were stabbed, most split the length of their torso. (This may have been the basis of one claim that the stomach cavity of each of the Jonestown victims was used by the CIA to smuggle heroin into the United States). The U.S. medical experts on the scene did absolutely nothing because, according to Dr. Cook, "I didn't even have a pocket knife, no equipment and no preservatives for specimens." There is really no wonder in why the U.S. government waited so long to send only two doctors and no medical supplies or equipment to gather evidence. It was obvious, as it was to Dr. Mootoo, that Washington was trying to suppress any investigation into Jonestown. Acting on orders from the office of Zbigniew Brzezinski (President Carter's National Security Advisor) "all politically sensitive papers and forms of identification were removed from the corpses." The U.S. government had made it impossible to identify the victims that were then placed in bags and air-lifted by helicopter to the Georgetown airport for the flight back to the United States.

Shock wave after shock wave shook San Francisco as the headlines heralded an increasing death toll in Jonestown. First reports claimed 400 had died. Days later the figure was revised upward to 780 and finally, one week after the Event, the news media reported the total as 903. Jim Jones had claimed the lives of more San Franciscans than had the devastating 1906 earthquake. The U.S. and Guyanese troops sent to clean up the experiment explained that their confusion over the body count was the result of the fact that corpses lay concealed under other corpses and were not discovered until the bodies were removed. If this ludicrous explanation is to be accepted, then 503 bodies were hidden under a pile of 400. In the lowest common denominator, four bodies concealed another five. It is very unlikely.

There is one plausible, though purely speculative, answer to the mystery of the ascending death toll. U.S. troops sent to Jonestown expected to find what they were told were 1,200 residents. According to their reports, after the initial body count of 400, rather than look for more bodies around the pavilion, they spent much of the first few hours combing the surrounding jungle expecting to find the missing 800. Military helicopters were employed to fly low over the treetops and announce on loudspeakers that it was safe to return to Jonestown. Reportedly, no one answered their calls; no one emerged from the jungle. It is possible that only 400 residents committed suicide and the rest fled into the jungle. At first, 400 were reported dead because that was all that had died by the time that the military reached the settlement. As the escapees emerged from the jungle they were injected and their bodies dragged over to the pile. The revisions in the body count could have been made as the test persons were being located and murdered but this is only one possible scenario which would explain what has heretofore not made much sense.

Perhaps the mystery of the ascending body count was necessary to help cover-up the fact that, in the final analysis, the total count of 903 does not compare with the 1,200 that everyone, inside or out, agreed was the population of Jonestown. Approximately 300 people are missing. Some of these can be accounted for in the ranks of those top aides who "defected" from Jonestown just before the Event to escape any possible persecution for their association with the experiment. There were also those residents who had defected with the Ryan party or who were in Georgetown at the time for such questionable excuses as basketball games and dentist appointments. Even a meticulous study of Temple members who had recently defected, died, or for other reasons left Jonestown, accounts for less than 100 which should have left 1,100 to die in the Event that only claimed 903. The fate of the missing 197 is explored elsewhere in this work.

One of the basic misconceptions is that Guyana is in Africa. It is not. Guyana is an ocean away in South America, but to British Intelligence whose personnel trained mercenaries in Jonestown to fight in an African war, the project will always have legitimate (African connotations. So it is not surprising that British subjects like Gordon Lindsay, who played an active role in Jonestown, would also have had a history of involvement with British interests in Africa.

[FONT=Verdana]Gordon Lindsay's contributions to this story are too often underrated. He had been instrumental in the process of convincing Ryan to visit Jonestown and had single-handedly o...