Basketball saved him from the Jonestown massacre

By TOM JONES, Times Staff Writer
Published October 6, 2007

ADVERTISEMENT [The San Mateo Chronicle] Jim Jones Jr., his son, Rob, and his mother, Erin. Jim Jones is the adopted son of the Rev. Jim Jones, who led the mass suicide at Jonestown. Related links Basketball saved him from the Jonestown massacre Behind the story

Basketball saved his life. This isn't a story about how basketball gave an 18-year-old something to do, something to get him off the streets or away from drugs. When he says basketball saved his life, he doesn't mean it in a figurative way. He means it literally.

If it wasn't for basketball, he would have been a part of one of the most horrific scenes of our time. If it wasn't for basketball, he would've been in the middle of the jungle in Guyana, South America, drinking Flavor Aid laced with poison. If it wasn't for basketball, he surely would have been found dead, along with 918 other men, women and children.

But basketball saved the life of Jim Jones Jr. It allowed him to live and to raise a son who is now 18 and a basketball star himself.

The two have risen from the ashes of one of the most shocking and chilling moments in history, known as the Jonestown Massacre.

"If it wasn't for basketball, I wouldn't be talking right now," Jones said. "I would be dead. And I mean that literally."

In 1977, a preacher-turned-paranoid dictator, Jim Jones, moved his flock, known as the Peoples Temple, from northern California to the jungles of Guyana. He created what he described as a self-sufficient paradise. Men, women and children of all races and backgrounds followed him.

In late November of 1978, Rep. Leo Ryan (D-Calif.) took a group to investigate reports that people were living in unsafe conditions and being held against their will.

Jones Jr., who had been adopted by the Rev. Jones and his wife, was there on Nov. 14 to meet the congressman and his party, but then he was off, along with a dozen others, including two brothers, to a basketball tournament in Georgetown, 250 miles away. He left behind his wife and unborn child. He would never again see them alive.

"Playing basketball was a big thing for us," he said. "I had to convince my father to even let us build a basketball court at Jonestown. My father saw it as an act of rebellion. Basketball was an organized sport. It was part of the establishment. My father was against anything like that. But, finally, after many arguments, we convinced him."

On Nov. 18, he received a call on CB radio in Georgetown from his father.

"He told us what had happened," Jones said.

Ryan and his party, along with a dozen or so Peoples Temple members who accepted Ryan's invitation to leave, were intercepted at their airplanes by gunmen. Ryan and four others were shot dead. Back in Jonestown, Jones was preparing for a mass suicide.

"He then told us what was going on, and he asked us (the basketball team) to kill ourselves," Jones said. "I didn't believe him. Then we argued. ... That was the last I heard from him."

The team tried to contact authorities, but the only way to get to Jonestown was by boat or airplane. They finally reached the American embassy. Later that day, authorities arrived in Jonestown to find the dead, including Jones Sr., who had shot himself. Audio tapes reveal the horror of children and women crying after being forced to drink the poison. Jones, over a megaphone, told his people that they weren't committing suicide but "revolutionary suicide protesting."

"I'm saddened daily by the events my father created," Jones said. "But I'm very proud of the people willing to make a sacrifice with their lives to make a better world. At least they tried."

He returned to the San Francisco area and gave up basketball.

"I was ashamed to play, I was guilty I was alive because of basketball and my wife and friends were dead," Jones said. "Basketball saved my life, but so many others had died. I felt guilty for that."

He eventually remarried and had a son, Rob. When Rob was in second grade, he asked his dad for a gift - a basketball.

By the time Rob was a senior in high school, he was 6 feet 6, 240 pounds and one of the top prep players in the country, averaging 16 points and 11 rebounds He is now a freshman attending San Diego University on a basketball scholarship.

Every now and again teammates or friends ask Rob about his grandfather.

"My whole life, sitting around the living room, my dad would tell me stories about his childhood and my grandfather," Rob said.

Jones said, "My wife and I made a conscious decision to tell Rob about my family background. They were going to find out, so we wanted them to find out from us."

Jim and Rob aren't shy about the attention. On Sunday, ESPN's Outside the Lines (9:30 a.m.) will air a 19-1/2-minute documentary on their story.

Once a week, Jones hears the phrase "drinking the Kool-Aid" from those who don't know who he is. Rob said he fully expects to be taunted by fans. "Bring it on," he said. "I'll be ready for it."

To the family, the tragedy is a part of who they are, but now in the past. Today, they have basketball.

"For such a long time I was ashamed of basketball," Jones said. "But it did save my life. And it's a pleasure watching Rob excel, using basketball as a vessel. The irony is it saved my life and (has become part of Rob's life). Basketball has been a special gift to me and Rob. And, because of basketball, the Jones name can be used for something positive, something good instead of what it had been remembered for."

[Last modified October 5, 2007, 20:25:24]