Agreeing with my 10-year old self.

I was 10.

I've written that me and my grasp of the passage of time don't exactly play well together. So when I looked at the paper this morning and recognized the determined face of Congresswoman Jackie Speier looking off towards some unseen focal point, I was puzzled. That I know of, Congresswoman Speier hasn't exactly been the political topic in the news lately.

But when I saw other words ... "Guyana, South America", "airstrip", "Representative Leo Ryan", I knew. It must be mid-November. My 10-year-old self remembers other words, too - "cult", "Peoples Temple", "mass suicides".

My 40-year-old self realizes that she has casually said the phrase "drank the kool-aide" to other business associates, to signify a blind following of something or another. However, being reminded that 30 years ago, acting upon that phrase led to a loss of more than 900 lives ... 400 of them were just babies ... the phrase now sickens me. I make a mental note to refrain from using it ever again.

Each generation, it seems, has lots of periods of awakening. For some, it will be the tragic death of a young energetic President, or the carrying out of a hideous and almost inconceivable plot involving planes and buildings. Others will remember the start (or end) of wars, police actions, riots, or highway chases being covered like a sporting event, the public beating of an individual by those we trust to protect us, or a family thrust into a spotlight when an innocent child is stolen from her own bedroom.

I remember Jim Jones and his legacy because my father was a firefighter in San Francisco, and Dad knew people who had family and friends who never left Jones' so-called church. I remember my dad working a lot of extra shifts, probably covering for co-workers who were in mourning. This meant that my mom was left to try to help my sister and I understand what had happened and why it wouldn't happen to us. I remember thinking that Jones had created hell on Earth and, in my 10-year-old head, that made him the Devil. He wasn't mad, he wasn't crazy - no, he was evil. The worst kind of evil a 10-year old could ever want to imagine. Thirty years has not dimmed my opinion. Though I have seen other evils, I still cannot find anything but true hate in Jim Jones.

All too soon after Jonestown, the city was to experience a hell even closer to home, provided by a different evil named Dan White. His actions actually galvanized the city in probably the exact opposite way he was hoping for and while many in my state clearly disagree, San Francisco is proud of the freedoms she gives to her residents.

A bit of a downer post today - sorry for that. But if you're interested at all in Jonestown, the San Francisco Chronicle asked Jackie Speier to write about her experiences in Guyana, and it makes for an excellent read. I encourage you to take a moment.