The Weight of a Phrase
Authored by: Jay Archambeau
Trigger warning: This reflection discusses historical mass murder, suicide, and the deaths of children.
A couple of weeks ago, while talking with one of my best friends—if not my very best friend—I learned something unexpected. Quite frankly, it caught me very much off guard and encouraged me to reflect for a while.
I do not remember exactly what we were discussing or how we arrived at the subject, but suddenly we were talking about Jim Jones and the violence that occurred in 1978 at Jonestown.
“I really hate that phrase—‘They drank the Kool-Aid.’ It makes me think about the Jonestown crap and how I lost a friend in all that. And when I hear that phrase, I think about her, the loss of all those people, and how they’re not honored.”
His words stopped me dead in my tracks.
Had I used the phrase with him? Had I just said it? I could not recall.
When had I last used it?
I know I have used it when talking about the weirdness of our current political climate. I know I have.
But had I said it to him?
Everything swirled, and I began to feel quite sick to my stomach.
My mind raced back to 1978. I was barely five years old at the time, and I had only recently learned that the newscasters could not see me even though we could see them.
That is an entirely different blog topic right there.
In November 1978, 918 people lost their lives in events connected with Jonestown, Guyana, on the northern coast of South America. More than 300 of them were children. Many of those who died did not willingly choose death. Children were murdered. Adults were coerced, forced, or killed.
I vividly remember the aerial images—presumably filmed from a helicopter—panning across a seemingly endless sea of bodies. I remember the gasps from my parents.
Me? I was simply glad to see something else on television besides the Watergate hearings. My parents had been absolutely glued to those, especially during the evenings when both my mom and dad were home.
But, again, that story deserves a note of its own.
“Why are all those people sleeping in their clothes?” I asked my parents.
There was a long pause.
A rather extended pause.
I am sure they looked at each other, wondering how in the world they should respond.
My mom finally broke the silence.
“They’re not sleeping. They’re dead.”
Her words felt stark. Cold. Final. Somehow detached.
I was suddenly jarred.
She was not joking.
Neither were the images.
“What happened to them?”
At the time, that question went unanswered. I am sure my parents did not want to add more trauma to my wonderings. But I understood that whatever had happened, it had happened for no good reason.
Everyone understood that then.
We understand it still.
I also remember the yellow-and-white airplane parked motionless on the dirt runway, as though it had been sealed in time alongside everything else in those photographs and broadcasts. I did not understand how the airplane was connected to the people lying there, but I knew somehow that it was.
Even at that young and innocent age, I knew.
Be careful with words.
Words matter.
They continue to matter. They always have, and they always will.
My conversation with my friend reminded me of this once again. And so, I gently pass that reminder along.
Rather than saying someone “drank the Kool-Aid,” consider one of these alternatives:
- “They bought into it.”
- “They joined the bandwagon.”
- “They fell for it.”
- “They got swept up in it.”
- “They got sucked in.”
- “They were taken in.”
- “They fell for it—hook, line, and sinker.”
Today, very little remains of the original Jonestown settlement. The jungle has reclaimed nearly every physical trace.
But we must not allow Jonestown—or the people who lost their lives there—to be erased from history or from our collective humanity. Their deaths should never be reduced to a punchline, a cliché, or shorthand for unquestioning loyalty.
My friend’s friend had a name.
Every person there did.
To remember and honor those whose lives were lost in connection with Jonestown, please consider visiting the Jonestown Institute’s memorial listing.
Say their names.
View the list of those who died on the Jonestown Institute website
The Jonestown Institute is hosted by San Diego State University.
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