We are the 300. Today is the 33rd anniversary of our deaths.
You do not think of us often, if at all.
How do we know this?
Because you are glib; you describe your rivals as people who have "drunk the Kool-Aid."
If you knew what we knew, you would never utter such a phrase again.
You would know that we were children, babes in arms.
We had no choice.
Many of our parents had no choice.
They tried to escape.
They were hunted down, hypodermic needles filled with cyanide stabbed into their backs.
And so, years later, the only thing you remember from that day was that people "willingly lined up to drink the Kool Aid."
It wasn't even Kool Aid. It was Flavor Aid.
We think you should get your facts straight.
We think you should pay attention to our screams and howls on the tapes of that day.
We think you should stop with your dismissals of those who disagree with you as dupes by using us as your example.
It is disrespectful.
Cruel.
We were human beings.
Now we are unwilling ghosts.
My friend, Julia Scheeres, who wrote the book A Thousand Lives, sent me this link to the final day.
There is a memorial to the lost children of Jonestown.
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R
And Julia Scheeres' book is a must-read.
r
Do people know that Jones had positioned sentries around the camp who rounded up anyone who tried to escape, who were then subjected to horrible punishments?
Do people know that Jones kept the folks at Jonestown half-starved and fed them almost nothing while requiring work camp-like hours of work?
Read A THOUSAND LIVES. It will change the way you think about what you have thought you knew.
I was 15 when this happened, and I definitely remember the deaths of these poor people, the news coverage, including some horrific audio - possibly the same you link to. While I was at an age of questioning all authority, I can credit this event for truly cementing my need to question what others ask of me.
The connection I had not made until reading this happened just a few years ago. I was in the middle of a series of intense personal development workshops. Trying to describe the experiences I was having, and their effects on me, my father jokingly asked me if they also required us to "drink the kool-aid". Feeling very personally insulted by this remark surprised me, and I truly didn't make the connection to the event, or how it shaped me, until now.
Thank you for making sure these "unwilling ghosts" are not forgotten! R
This is a stinging reminder to think before we speak.
Still, I appreciate your point and I thank you for the horrific story about spiking the punch bowl in a devious, potentially dangerous, way.
Shared.
--r--
I will always remember Jonestown because I was around ten, and I saw a magazine article with a lot of horrific pictures -- Newsweek? or Time? When you see those kinds of photos at the right age, the apex of innocence and understanding, they stick with you. It's easy to forget where the phrase "drink the Kool-aid" comes from, but I won't ever forget.
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