ANDY FRIEDMAN
Bridie Farrell ’08 started speedskating at age ten, rising to the sport’s elite ranks. By fifteen she was so dedicated, she was out of the house for practice at 4:30 every Saturday morning—driven to the rink by one of her mentors, Olympic silver medalist Andy Gabel. What no one knew, Farrell revealed this past March, was that the thirty-three-year-old Gabel was sexually abusing her—a secret she kept for a decade and a half.
After Farrell went public in an interview with a Milwaukee public radio station, Gabel apologized and resigned from positions with the International Skating Union and the National Speedskating Hall of Fame; days later, another skater accused him of raping her when she was fifteen. The revelations have put Farrell in the national media spotlight and added urgency to the conversation—in the wake of the Penn State case and an alleged cover-up at USA Swimming—about protecting young people from abuse at the hands of coaches and other athletic mentors.
One of six siblings (three of whom went to Cornell), Farrell grew up in Saratoga Springs, New York. After narrowly missing the Olympic short-track teams in 1998, 2002, and 2006, she earned a degree in policy analysis and management from the College of Human Ecology. Now an agent for New York Life, Farrell is training for a comeback. In early March, just as the Gabel story was hitting the news, she recorded a personal-best time at a long-track race in Utah.
Cornell Alumni Magazine: Why did you decide to go public?
Bridie Farrell: I always knew the story would come out; I didn’t know when, or in what capacity. But in January, after I won the national speedskating half-marathon, a reporter and I talked about doing a radio blog—and I realized, “This is the platform from which I could speak.”
CAM: Have you felt a backlash?
BF: Not at all. I’ve received one bad e-mail and one cold shoulder. I cannot count the phone calls, texts, Facebook messages, and e-mails of support, and the number of people who’ve thanked me. It’s surprising, but amazing.
CAM: What did it mean to you that another skater, Nikki Ziegelmeyer, also came forward?
BF: It made me really sad and upset. I wish I were the only person in the world with this problem—but I was positive there were others, and I had heard rumors. When Nikki came forward, I was proud of her. In speedskating, Andy was a big name; fifteen or twenty years ago he could shut her up, but this is not going to the court of sports. So I was happy for her that it can be addressed properly.
CAM: What was your reaction to the fact that Gabel resigned his positions, admitted wrongdoing, and offered an apology?
BF: It definitely makes my life easier that he acknowledged it, but it’s pretty half-assed. He’s had fifteen years to apologize, but he hasn’t personally contacted me; in the newspaper, he didn’t even mention my name. Yeah, it’s better than him denying it, but I honestly don’t feel much different about the situation. I’m glad he won’t be able to walk into a rink without people knowing the truth. But he’s still in the Hall of Fame, and he shouldn’t be. He also has a lifetime membership to U.S. Speedskating because he’s an Olympian, and I think he should surrender his membership or Speedskating should take it back, because you can’t have child molesters in ice rinks.
CAM: You’re now thirty-one—roughly the same age that Gabel was when this happened to you. Has that driven home just how young you were back then?
BF: Completely. It’s disgusting to realize how young I was and how old he was. Let’s get some perspective: If I wanted to go to a friend’s house, I had to ask my mom for a ride. I had to ask for seconds at dinner. I didn’t do my own laundry.
CAM: At the time, did you realize that the relationship was abusive?
BF: At first I was star-struck; I felt special that he was choosing to spend time with me. I don’t want to say that I liked it, but it was exciting. After a short period of time, when I was told it had to be a secret, I knew that wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I knew it was wrong—but I also wanted to get better at skating, to make the national team and the Olympics, so I was scared to death.
CAM: Scared that it would cost you your speedskating career?
BF: He was how I got to the rink to practice; he’d work on my blades. He went on to be president of U.S. Speedskating. I was scared of what it would do to my ability to skate—whether my parents would let me, the social aspect of being in the rink, who would believe me.
CAM: When did you finally tell someone?
BF: Not until I wrote a paper at Cornell. I was taking an adolescent development class, and the final project was on how what we’d learned applied to ourselves—how the brain hasn’t fully developed at that age and the impact things can have years later.
CAM: Did your professor call you into her office and say, “You’ve been abused”?
BF: She said, “You need to talk to somebody.” I had talked to tons of therapists over the years, but I’d never told them this.
CAM: What are some of the ways it negatively impacted your life?
BF: I specifically remember Andy calling me fat when I was 119 pounds, and I’ve had various eating disorders. I think it affected my ability to trust and form relationships. I’m not saying I’m bitter or skeptical, but it’s definitely given me insight that you don’t know what’s beneath the surface of someone who’s talked up as a great person.
CAM: Given the common theme of children being abused by a trusted athletic figure, were you hit hard by the Penn State story?
BF: Yeah. I got messages from a few folks who knew saying, “We’re thinking about you.” And I distinctly remember talking to a bunch of Penn State alums who were saying, “Come on, it’s not that bad,” and I kind of lost it. I was like, “Oh yeah? Let’s pick up the phone and call those six men. Let’s ask their wives, their children, their friends, and their parents how it’s affected their lives.”
CAM: What changes would you like to see to protect young people in the future?
BF: The statute of limitations needs to change. I reported it much sooner than most; a lot of women don’t come out until they’re married and have their own children. So having a five-year statute of limitations is an insult; even ten years would be. We need to tell young people, “You own your body—and if something happens, tell me.” And we need to be real about who’s committing these heinous acts. It’s people we know, like Jerry Sandusky. The whole “stranger danger” that we teach kids—like, “If there’s a weird-looking man in a windowless van offering you a lollipop, don’t take it”—it doesn’t happen. The vast majority of abuse is by people we know and trust.