Seductive Poison (53 page)

I would like to give thanks to my
first
friends outside the Temple at the brokerage firm of Dean Witter Reynolds: David Cho for his unwavering belief, Sheryl Ishigaki for her love of life, and Mike Zima for his incredible humor; all three of you taught me well and I thank you all. Also to the many friends on the trading floor of Montgomery Securities. In particular, Thorn Weisel for influencing me in ways he could not know and accepting me unconditionally; the late Ned Blackwood, whose life was taken too young, for taking me under his protective wing, and for my crash course on “This Other World: 101”; Ben Simon for his enduring kindness and delicious sandwich; Elaine and Ralph Blair for their chic camaraderie; James Stack for listening; and the late gifted and lovely Betsy Woods.

I am profoundly grateful to Loren Buddress, who granted me his honorable, moral, and heart-felt support in more ways than I can count or ever thank him for.

I wish Susie Smoke, my friend, photographer, and staunch supporter, were alive today to see me finally step out from the shadow of Jonestown. I miss her laugh, our spirited conversations, and her concern for my brother Larry.

I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunity to meet Charles Krause, the Emmy Award—winning journalist, whose life was almost lost when he went to Jonestown on assignment for the
Washington Post.
Our paths crossed eighteen years later and I am grateful.

I am ever grateful to my friends John Clark and Grace Stoen, who became my mentors and friends after my escape, for opening my eyes. Both desperately tried to get their own families out from the clutches of Jim Jones, but lost their battles. John lost his mother, sister, stepfather, and stepbrother, and Grace her six year-old son, John-John.

I dearly thank Dr. Steven Katsaris, who didn’t hang up when he heard my voice, for bravely reading my manuscript, and for his commentary. He too has suffered deeply with the loss of his daughter, Maria, and the injury of his son, Anthony, at the airstrip in Guyana. I thank Stephan Jones for his bravery, friendship, support, and willingness to share his thoughts, time, daughter, and family photographs with me; Dr. John and Barbara Moore, who lost their daughters Annie and Carolyn as well as their grandson Kimo; Dr. Rebecca Moore, Annie and Carolyn’s sister, and her husband Fielding Mcgehee for their incredible strength, love, and passionate belief that Larry should be allowed to come home.

I remain deeply appreciative to Sheri Glucoft Wong for her guidance, and Dr. Philip Zimbardo and his Stanford psychology class on Mind Control. As I spoke to his class of 200 students, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of my part in this historical event, I was put at ease by their nonjudgmental and insightful questions.

Last, I wish I could thank in person the late Honorable Chief Judge Robert F. Peckham. I did not know him personally, but came to know him well while he sat in his black robes on the bench before me, judging my brother. He was firm and unrelenting in ferreting out truth from fiction, hype from fact, and ultimately fairness from political maneuverings. He believed Larry was a minor player in an enormous tragedy and never stopped trying to get Larry freed. The Honorable Robert Peckham died in 1993.

Photographs

Preaching in Ukiah.
(COURTESY STEPHAN JONES)

With Temple children. On the left a teenager is holding Grace and Tim Stoen’s son, John-John. (COURTESY STEPHAN JONES)

Larry with his new wife Karen, Ukiah, California, 1969.
(COURTESY DR. THOMAS LAYTON)

The Reverend Jim Jones, our “Prophet,” Ukiah, California, early 1970s.(COURTESY STEPHAN JONES)

School graduation photo, Ackworth School, Yorkshire England, 1971. Mark Blakey is right behind me.(DEBORAH LAYTON)

Larry cutting the wedding cake with Carolyn, David, California, 1967.(COURTESY DR. THOMAS LAYTON)

Leaving for boarding school at age sixteen, 1969. (COURTESY DR. THOMAS LAYTON)

Back home in Berkeley in 1970, after punching my fist through a window at school, and just two weeks before my first meeting with Jim Jones. (COURTESY DR. THOMAS LAYTON)

Our home in Berkeley, 1959; in the background is the etching of Pablo Casals and the sculpture
Die Erwachende
(“The Awakening”), by Klimsch.(COURTESY DR. THOMAS LAYTON)