(Aliah Mohmand, who conducted this interview, is a Jonestown researcher and contributor to this site.)
Mohmand: The first thing I’d like to do is to thank you for agreeing to this interview. You have a unique perspective which few people know about.
I’d like to begin by talking about your life as a Guyanese journalist before the story of Peoples Temple and Jonestown. What led you to journalism?
Hamaludin: I was born in this part of Guyana called the Essequibo region. I became a school teacher. I was a school teacher for eight years. I did what would probably be grade school and secondary school or high school.
I come from a rural area, and was the eldest of nine children in my family. There were no books in my home when I was growing up except for the Quran. None. But when I was very young, I got struck by literature. The reason for that is that I was vacationing with my grandmother who took me to the capital of Guyana, Georgetown. There was a market, where I saw a bunch of stuff hanging down like books—books, books, books. One caught my attention, Goofy Gator. It was a comic book. And I begged her to buy it. It cost us a lot of money. (laughter) When she brought it, it was my first exposure to literature.
Going down the years, I got into movies. I got addicted to movies. There was a time when I’d ride my bike five miles away or so to see movies. It was 25 cents in those days. That was in the early 1950s.
I was able to go to high school in a different part of the country near my grandmother, because in my area, there was no high school. I was there for four years. I graduated from high school in 1960 and went back home to the rural area. My former high school principal, who was starting a new school in my area where I grew up, asked me, since I just graduated if I could come and help start it up. I said sure, and a couple of us graduates went. That’s how I got into teaching.
After a few months I decided to get a job at the Government of Guyana [GoG], at the Education Department because the one that I helped the principal start wasn’t paying much. So I got into that and spent a couple years teaching at a grade school. At that time the GoG started a high school in my area. It was pretty much close to the same place where I was teaching grade school. So I went and became a high school teacher.
A few years later, I was interested in literature and writing. I entered a national competition that was sponsored annually by the [Guyana] Chronicle, called the Chronicle Christmas Annual. [Editor’s Note: Hamaludin is referring to the GoG’s national newspaper, the Guyana Chronicle, which produced an annual special edition every Christmas season.]
One year, I submitted a short story and it won an honorable mention. The next year I sent three entries. One won the first prize. The other two were awarded honorable mention. Somebody told me later on that I couldn’t win second and third because other people had to get something. (laughter) The editor at the Chronicle at the time—he was of course, one of the judges—asked me if I would like to join his staff as a reporter. In Guyana in those days there was no college. Well, there was no journalism program. It was a learning on-the-job type or profession. Usually a lot of people were recruited from teaching. Because out of all of the things you had to be good at in a British Colony, you had to be good at English. You had to be very good at that. That’s how I got into journalism.
I sort of worked my way through it. I worked at different places. I worked at the local newspaper, the Chronicle. Then I worked a while for a now-defunct news agency, called the Caribbean News Agency, known as CANA, which was sponsored as a cooperative by the Caribbean newspapers and broadcasters.
It was when I was working at CANA that the Jonestown story happened. We in Georgetown did not really know much about the Jonestown people. We had an idea about them, but they had gone 180 miles into the interior. They were near a small airstrip [Port Kaituma]. It was really, really, remote.
Mohmand: Can you tell me how you first heard about what happened in Jonestown in November 1978?
Hamaludin: That night—it was a Saturday night—I had this terrific, bad case of the flu. I was at home and in bed when I got a call from my editor in Barbados, where CANA was headquartered. His name was Hubert Williams. He asked me if I heard what was happening in Jonestown, and I said no. I’d known that Congressman Leo Ryan and his party had gone to Jonestown a couple days before, but that was the extent of it.
The GoG did not make any statement. The GoG had kept their hands off the whole thing because the Jonestown people were in the interior and they had no connection or relationship with the people outside of the Temple. The reason that Barbados heard it was that the GoG sent the U.S. State Department a report of what they had heard was going on. The State Department then issued a press release and had a press conference to discuss what was going on. That came through the news wires and was picked up by newspapers and radio stations around the world that this was happening. That’s how I heard about it. It really woke me up. (laughter)
There was not much else I could have done, because nobody was being allowed to go into Jonestown except for some government officials. On that Monday morning, November 20, 1978, the Minister of Information, Shirley Field-Ridley, had a press conference. She presented the GoG’s official position which was that they had just learned from their people what was going on. She was sending in an exploratory party and choosing two reporters to go in. Charles Krause, who was then working with the Washington Post, was chosen as the pool reporter for the international press. The minister had known me, so she chose me as the pool reporter for CANA, which essentially reported for the entire Caribbean. That’s how I was able to go in.
I was not mentioned in the recent documentary [Cult Massacre: One Day in Jonestown]. (laughter) But that was what really happened. From the perspective of a journalist, it was the greatest highlight of my career.
I remember walking in and seeing all the bodies. The first report was that about 400-something people had died, then later that many more people had died, some in their houses. Also, many were not initially counted because large numbers of bodies were stacked on one another, which I saw while there. The count eventually came out to 912. [Editor’s note: 918 people died that day, including 909 in Jonestown, five at the Port Kaituma airstrip, and four in Georgetown.]
So when I went in on that Monday morning [November 20] with the GoG exploratory group, I had the opportunity to walk through the settlement and look at the bodies. After a while I sat down and wondered what would make people do something like this. Of course, the documentary calls it a massacre rather than a murder-suicide tragedy. But the information I had gotten was that it was a case of murder-suicide. I heard that Jones had summoned his followers to a meeting and told them it was time to “cross over,” to commit “revolutionary suicide.” I had heard that a lot of them didn’t want to and some did.
When I was in Jonestown this first time, as I mentioned in a news story, an elderly African American man [Grover Davis] came out and said that he hid in a dugout. He said that he had gradually made his way to the end of the crowd and hid. Next thing he saw, he said, was all of these people dead. I also saw an elderly African American woman [Hyacinth Thrash] who said that she slept through the whole thing. She said she never heard the announcement on the loudspeakers to go to the gathering. She said that she didn’t wake, she just slept.
I was able to do the interviews because that Monday when it was time to go back to Georgetown, the GoG sent a smaller plane to the small dirt [Port Kaituma] airstrip. That meant that everybody who had come would be able to return to Georgetown at that time, and everybody started running to get seats, including Charles Krause. I think I was too depressed to make the run. That meant I had to wait overnight for another plane, because the airstrip had no lights and no other planes would be able to come in until the next day. But being stuck overnight had an advantage. I was given accommodation for the night at a police station.
Two things happened: one, I was able to use the police shortwave radio to file my first story. I dictated it to my wife, who passed it onto CANA in Barbados. It became the first story to be published out of Jonestown because, I believe, Krause was still in the air. One of the stories that I emailed you was that first report. The dateline had it wrong, calling it Jamestown, instead of Jonestown. CANA had a working arrangement with Reuters, which was the agency that sent my story out to the world. Reuters sent me a congratulatory letter and for what it said was good work. I got sent a bonus check also, which was very nice. The next morning, I got a ride back to Jonestown, and it was then that I interviewed Grover Davis and Hyacinth Thrash, at the time the only survivors in the commune.
A week later, the GoG sent another group of people to Jonestown, and I was among them. Bodies were still lying in the hot tropical sun. As far as I knew, they were not removed until the U.S. sent in people from the Graves Registration Detail from Dover AFB.
That second time, there was nothing more to see except the bodies. Several pieces of paper were lying on the ground, notes that the Jonestown people had written to Jones. They thanked him and called him “Father.” It was ironic because they were almost all dead, as was Jones, whose body I had seen a week earlier lying on the ground, bleeding from a bullet hole to the head, a handgun a few feet away.
What also struck me was—I didn’t pay much attention to this during the first trip—the rows and rows of vegetables and different kinds of plants there. And each vegetable row had a sign warning of pesticides, warning people to be careful. The only sound was from a windmill generating electricity.
When I went back to Georgetown, everything had been finished since they were all mostly dead. I would learn that Leo Ryan, journalists and a “defector” had been killed. Survivors were staying at a hotel called the Tower Hotel. [Editor’s note: A majority of the survivors stayed at the Park Hotel, rather than the Tower.] A large number of journalists from around the world were also there, seeking to interview the survivors. I came across Tim Carter and Mike Prokes at that time, and they granted me an interview, which I wrote up and filed.
The last time I had anything to do with Jonestown was when I drove to the airport [Timehri International Airport, now Cheddi Jagan International Airport] when the bodies were about to be flown out. A rough wooden coffin had the name “Jimmie Jones.”
That was really the extent of my contact with Jonestown. I did have an earlier contact with the Temple when they sent a few people—ambassadors—over to visit me, I realized, to get good press for themselves from the Chronicle. They were in Georgetown at the time, where Jones had a house [Lamaha Gardens] at which a few of his followers stayed. They said that there were rumors that the GoG was not too kind about them remaining in Guyana. We talked. I was surprised when not long afterwards Jones’ wife, Marceline, and two of his secretaries came up to meet me for a follow-up. I was fairly certain they were trying to get more information about the GoG’s attitude. They gave a bottle of whiskey to me (laughter), but I told them that I didn’t drink, and another journalist took it.
That was before the report that Ryan was going to be visiting Jonestown. I did not get to go into Jonestown. I had been promised a seat on the plane with Ryan but, at the last minute, his aide, Jackie Speier, called to let me know that the seat had been taken by the GoG for a Government Information Service employee [Neville Annibourne]. He actually got caught in the shooting and got shot in the buttocks. He survived.
Mohmand: Can you tell me what people in Guyana thought about Jonestown.
Hamaludin: The truth is that we had no idea what was going on there. The GoG had a blackout in the government-owned main newspaper, the Chronicle, and radio station, Guyana Broadcasting Service. A lot of the information about the tragedy came from radio—the Caribbean. I had to move on since I was representing CANA and there was other stuff happening in Guyana that I had to cover.
Mohmand: What was the greatest lesson you took away from covering Jonestown?
Hamaludin: The gullibility of people. It still happens. Many questions still haven’t been answered. What would lead people to follow someone like Jones? What would get people to follow this leader—a cult leader? There are many people in the U.S. with problems who are looking for a way in which they can find some kind of purpose to their lives. Obviously they don’t find it in religion. In Guyana, I wasn’t exposed to a lot of stuff like that. You don’t think about it. Then I’m dropped right in the middle of it. Then you’re, like, “What the heck? This is crazy.” It was sad. In Jonestown, I think, it was people seeking purpose in life. The tragedy—in all of these cases, you find that people are isolated from mainstream society.
In Jonestown, I think that it was almost predestined to happen. Jones took his people to what he called the Peoples [Temple] Agricultural Project, which was the official name of Jonestown. They built cottages, planted vegetables and fruits, cultivated the land, but they were cut off from the rest of the world. Jones had a suitcase of all the passports from the U.S. He had it so that they couldn’t leave. Some people tried to escape but they were in the jungle and that would not have been easy. If you wanted to risk it, there was only this road, a seven-miles road, and you would need a truck, but nobody had it but Jones. People became more and more committed to him because, what else could they do? He was their leader.
I think that, too, he became more and more paranoid. He didn’t have any checks and balances like when he was in San Francisco, where officials and the press could keep an eye on him. No wonder he went after the American journalists and Ryan. They threatened him, his community, and his leadership. That was much of what was passing through my mind.
But, then, as I said, as either Tim Carter or Mike Prokes told me, why would they be going to this place only to die? They had spent all that time building houses, planting vegetables and fruit, and they had brought in timber to build more houses. I think that it could have continued for a while had it not been for the arrival of Ryan and U.S. journalists. From what I learned, Jones’ followers put on a big show for the congressman. Everything was going to be hunky dory until one person [Ujara Sly] decided to do something to Ryan. He tried to stab Ryan but ended up injuring himself. Ryan was not hurt, and the blood seen on his shirt came from his would-be assailant. But it was clear that the efforts Jones made to give Ryan the impression that everything was all right would not be enough to convince the Congressman.
One person in the documentary said that Jones had told his people that Leo Ryan and his party would never arrive at Jonestown. In fact, the way I heard it was that when Ryan was leaving, Jones had planted among some defectors who would be accompanying him a follower named Larry Layton. The plot, as I heard it, included hiding a pistol under the pilot’s seat and shooting him in the back of the head when the plane was in the air. Jones told his followers during the fatal gathering that he made a prayer, and that his prayer would be answered and the plane would fall out of the sky. It didn’t happen, of course. Apparently the pistol was discovered and Layton would be taken into police custody. From what I heard, Jones fell back on Plan B, which was to send his security detail to shoot Ryan and others, including the U.S. journalists.
It’s a bit hard to remember. It was in 1978, and now it’s 46 years later, but some memories are still with me.
I do remember that a Time photographer took a photo of a macaw, which is a colorful bird. It was perched on a limb and looking upon all of the bodies. It made the cover of the magazine. I wondered what the bird must be asking itself, “What is wrong with these humans?” I was actually sitting under the bird, but was not in the picture. (laughter)
The photographer, David Hume Kennerly, wrote afterwards that he had covered many wars, but nothing kept him up more at night than the horror of Jonestown.
My wife has always asked me about Marceline. Jones’ wife is not talked about much in documentaries but I think she played a critical role, not in his craziness but as a supporter. I think she drank the poison, because I saw mucus oozing from her nose. She was lying next to other Jones followers just below the steps of their meeting hall. She had organized a group to make soft toys which were then sold in stores in Georgetown. I still have one of a cat that I bought from a shop.
Mohmand: How did your coverage of Jonestown impact your career and perspective as a journalist from Guyana?
Hamaludin: It didn’t really change me. I suppose the philosophical thing was that it made me ask more questions. I would love to say that it changed me as a person and journalist, but I’d be lying if I said that. It made me ask, and continue to ask, how something like this happened. In my old age, I’ve come across so many instances where people feel so lost in a society that does not satisfy their spiritual needs. There’s so many things you have to live with as a human being. If you have the right upbringing: family, societal, institutional, and community support, you’ll probably come out as a different person than if you are seduced into the clutches of a cult leader.
In Jones’ case, it was obvious that his followers included a lot of old and young people, who, of course, are among the most vulnerable. But a lot of adults were among the 912 people. Jones was, of course, receiving the checks coming from California for child support, pensions, and such. It must have helped to finance his cult.
I realized that the world is still much the same as it was on Saturday, November 18, 1978, that there is still need for a support network, more than just simply economics and financial—yes, our government is pretty gracious in benefits—but in a capitalist society like ours, does it provide enough social support and spiritual support for the needy? The support network is not there. As a former teacher, I learned that the main purpose of education is to socialize the young so that they can fit into society. That has not been happening.
Nowadays, we have states and cities that are cracking down on people just because they are homeless. They are charged or jailed just for being out in the streets and being shunted out of the public eye. Those are the kind of people, I suppose, who can still fall prey to cult leaders. Then there are those who become addicted to drugs. Veterans might come back from wars and they get into drugs. Look into the statistics for veterans. There are not enough social service organizations. Most of the current social organizations are overwhelmed.
Going back to my career, I went from being a journalist to a columnist. I still write a weekly column for a newspaper, South Florida Times. Being a columnist, I sometimes write about the need to examine our priorities. We need to realize that just because a person doesn’t look like you or talk like you or isn’t well-off like you, doesn’t mean that they are inferior.
If Jonestown had a lesson for humankind, the lesson would be to look back at their society and see what would cause so many people to follow a man like Jim Jones. Not many people remember Jim Jones and Jonestown unless someone brings it up or there’s a documentary or another book. There might even be a flow of new information for the 50th anniversary coming up in four years. But that’s it. We move on. A journalist moves onto the next big story. Right?
Mohmand: Tell me about the rest of your career.
Hamaludin: I was given the opportunity to be a correspondent for a magazine in Miami. I came over here, returned to Guyana and returned later after working in the Cayman Islands and Turks and Caicos Islands. I eventually was given a Green Card and later got my citizenship. I won’t go into the whole thing, but it was difficult for me to be hired as a journalist in the U.S. because I didn’t come from the American journalism environment. I didn’t have experience on an American paper. At one point, I was thinking about getting out of journalism. I had 16 years’ experience at that time. But I later learned that there was an African American newspaper called The Miami Times, which was founded in 1923. I ended up with the job there. I quickly moved up to become executive editor. I spent about 15 years there. That was another revelation for me since I had never worked this closely with African Americans or Americans as a whole. In Guyana, there are people of African descent, just as there are those of Indian descent, like me.
I next applied for a job at The Miami Herald, one of the top papers. I got a job there because of my experience at The Miami Times. I was hired as editor of one of their neighborhood supplements called Neighbors. I worked for them for about 10 years. I then retired.
But there was—and is—another paper called South Florida Times, which was started by a senior executive at The Miami Herald, Robert Beatty, who had known me. He asked me to help him for a couple of months because his editor left him for a job in the Middle East. I ended up spending four and a half years with him. It was very intense work, a lot of reporting and editing. I was ready to retire but he didn’t want me to retire but I was already old. A year and a half later, Robert suggested I write a column for his paper, on any subject I choose. I have written about Guyana, the Caribbean, Africa—since I follow African affairs—and, of course, U.S. politics. I’ve narrowed my focus down to slavery and its impact on American society. I do not like to see people exploited.
I write stories for the South Florida Times. I’d think you’d like them. It’s mostly circulated online. I have about 15 subscriptions and news apps for news agencies. If a story catches my attention, I save it. If more information comes out or if there’s a trigger or different lead, I save that also in the same folder as the story. Then I extract from them—with credit, of course – for my column. I sometimes end up with 40,000 words of background from which I select relevant parts. That means that I condense a 40,000-word background into a 1,300-1,400- word column.
For example, this week, I wrote about one Florida Senator who is running for the re-election named Rick Scott. My column for next week, the week of July 4th—I’ve wanted to write about it before—is about the disparity between the very rich and very poor. Someone who has $250 billion in assets in comparison to someone who has $19,000 in assets. The guy with $250 billion is a white guy. The person with $19,000 is an African American. As I was researching the topic, I came across a 7000-word piece written by Nikole Hannah-Jones, who was involved in the 1619 history project. It was the most profound piece I’ve read on the topic of the contributions of the enslaved to the economic development of the U.S. It was the perfect background for my column.
We are approaching the 250th anniversary of the founding of the American nation at a time when there are people with $250 billion dollars in assets—who had little to do with America’s development—and there are people with little, whose ancestors did. But from the way the system is structured, if they do have assets, it does not compare to the billions owned by others. Researching and writing the column keeps me alert in my old age, keeps the old brain functioning. All the research, writing, and editing—a lot of editing—helps me.
Mohmand: I can tell. It is a lot of work to write a good story.
Thank you for your time and insights, Mr. Hamaludin. I really do appreciate our conversation.
Hamaludin: Of course. I appreciate it. You’ve talked to some good people, you know? (laughter) Thank you.