Listening to "Where is George Gibney" is Haunting

It was probably over a month ago that I caught wind that the BBC would be producing a podcast on infamous Irish swimming coach and pedophile George Gibney. Despite my interest in the topic, I had thus far resisted listening to the podcasts, of which there are now three, until a couple of days ago.

Part of the reason came down to simple arrogance. I felt like I had heard and read enough about Gibney that there would be little to gain from listening to a re-telling of the “same story”. The other part was a bit of fear. I knew it would be heavy listening, and I was worried about what it might stir up in me emotionally to listen,

So I made the mistake of firing up the podcast on my long, late night drive home from practice. It turns out, there were many parts of the story I didn’t know. Beyond that, I had never heard the voices of people whose names I had only seen on a page. It’s one thing for your eyes to scan across a page, quite another to hear the gentle patter of a young Gary O’Toole or the pained recollections of Chalkie White.

I say it was a mistake because I was haunted when I returned home. I’ve had the book “Deep Deception” recommended to me from all sides for nearly a decade now, though I’ve not yet read it. My new colleague at work, Paul Donovan, has told me a number of times emphatically that after reading it, you will never think we are doing enough to prevent abuse.

I had a similar takeaway from the podcast. There are certain points that have clearly been dramatized, and I find myself wanting to skip past them. I’m not particularly interested in finding out “Where is George Gibney”, as it’s been pretty common knowledge that he’s hiding out in Florida for quite some time.

Still, when the people who were actually there speak, I am transfixed. This is not meant as a review of the podcast, but there are a few major moments that have stuck with me since listening.

A major turning point early in the podcast involves Chalkie White, on a long trip abroad for the 1991 World Championships, approaches O’Toole and tells him he was abused by Gibney. Because of the nature of storytelling, we like to think of stories as having heroes and villains. O’Toole has been cast as a hero of this story, one of the few in which the person rallying against a coach was not actually a victim of that abuse.

To me, what is more telling is the number of times such a revelation has probably come to someone and they have not acted. O’Toole took the right action. All of us have to look for the opportunities that are presented to us to do the right thing. We should also question why it is we don’t get approached. What are we communicating without words that might make someone hesitate to communicate they have been gravely wronged.

Another part that stuck with me was listening to the tail of two assistant coaches of Gibney. One, John Mullens, bailed Gibney out of jail then later betrays some doubt when he recalls Gibney booking him into a hotel room to share with a 15 year old girl and whether it was a “trap”.

Mullens probably had the single most honest moment of the entire series, one in which he admitted that he would have bailed Gibney out again had he had the same information. It’s spoken with more than a bit of wounded pride.

The other assistant was Carol Walsh, who recalls attending a competition as Gibney was on trial. She had enough information to believe him guilty, and she wasn’t withholding her judgment. She recalled a moment where the entirety of other coaches at a meet ostracized her and stood behind Gibney, still maintaining court on the pool deck even while he was formally charged.

The series will be one I’ll listen to all the way through, if for nothing else than to hear the stories told by the people who were there.