Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, February 19, 1994 TAG: 9402190051
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: FRED BAYLES ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: HAMAR, NORWAY LENGTH: Medium
After disappointment in Sarajevo, tragedy in Calgary and frustration in Albertville, the 28-year-old speedskater had his tears of joy Friday. He broke a 10-year jinx and a world record in the For one day, Olympic spotlight wrested from Harding, Kerrigan. B1 last race of his Olympic career to win a gold medal in the 1,000 meters.
"I'm just so relieved that it's over and it has a happy ending," he said. He had the weary air of a man who just finished a marathon, not the two-thirds mile he skated in the glaring lights of the Viking Ship Olympic Hall.
Fans - 12,000 of them - gasped when he wobbled going into a late turn, then roared as he crossed the line in 1 minute, 12.43 seconds, 0.11 seconds under the old mark.
President Clinton phoned his congratulations. Clinton told Jansen he could identify with the up-and-down aspects of the skater's story.
"Everybody can relate to what he was going through, and everybody wanted a happy ending to the story," said Jansen's wife, Robin, who was taken to a first-aid station when she began to feel faint after the race.
Jansen's story is one of family sorrow and personal triumph. Writ large by newspaper headline and television image, it touches all who suffer loss, all who aspire to make a mark in their lives.
That was the burden Jansen carried all these years.
"This was for so many people, more than me," Jansen said. "I didn't want to let them down."
With 30 World Cup victories and two world records, Jansen may be the best speedskater of all time. But his Olympic failures overshadowed all else.
He was an up-and-coming competitor when he finished fourth in the 500 meters at the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics. He had a chance to fix that at Calgary in 1988.
But nine hours before he was to skate, he was told his sister, Jane, was dying of leukemia. He spoke to her on the phone and was urged to compete. A few hours later she was dead, and Jansen was at the starting line.
He slipped and fell going into the first turn. It happened again four days later in the 1,000. The sad picture of him sprawled on the ice, holding his head, became a lasting image of personal loss and Olympic defeat.
Albertville offered another chance four years later. But a rainy track and public pressure proved too much. Jansen was fourth in the 500; he faltered in the 1,000 and finished 26th.
On Monday, Jansen was back again for the 500. He slipped slightly and finished eighth. Friday was the last chance of his life.
In the four days between, Jansen turned to his family, especially his 9-month-old daughter, Jane.
"I'd go to sleep and wake up and see my daughter, and every day she made the pain go away a little bit," he said. "Today I just said, `I don't care what happens. I have to skate this race and then it's finished.' "
He came out fast, earning cheers when he finished his first 600 meters six-tenths of a second ahead of the record pace.
He swayed going into the second-to-last turn, then struggled through the last turn. But his steady stride took him through to a time 0.58 seconds better than his previous best.
The crowd erupted, waving the flags of the United States, the Netherlands, Japan and Norway. In the stands with Jane, Robin burst into tears and raised her arms to heaven.
The couple reunited at the ice's edge. Jansen kissed Robin's nose.
At the medal ceremony, Jansen kept looking at the granite and gold medal around his neck, as if to make sure it was his. His gray-blue eyes brimmed with tears as he mouthed the national anthem. Then he gave a small salute.
"It was for my sister," he explained.
The arena's lights dimmed for the traditional winner's victory lap. Jansen started down the track. Then, in a heart-stopping moment, he reached out for his daughter.
The two, father and daughter, took the lap together. Jane, a lifelong veteran of skating rinks, seemed more interested in her father's fluttering U.S. flag than the crowd serenading them with "The Skater's Waltz."
"This all started in Calgary, when Dan lost his sister," Robin later told a news conference as Jane chewed absently at Jansen's medal. "The saga ended today. We wanted it to end with the new Jane in our lives, our daughter, Jane."
by CNB