WEST BATH and Phippsburg – Sara “Sally” Terry Graves died unexpectedly on Oct. 17, 2021, due to complications from surgery five days earlier.

A service of celebration and thanksgiving for Sally’s life will be held at 11 a.m., on May 30, 2022 at the Maine Maritime Museum, and all are cordially invited to attend by her children and their spouses: Terry Graves Windhorst and Arden Harriman Mason, Laura Graves Jones and Captain Jeffrey Lee Jones, and Timothy King Graves and Kathryn DeBoer Graves, along with the five grandchildren she called her “Beloved Monsters”: Andrew DeBoer Graves, Daniel Jonathan Graves, Sara McIntyre Windhorst, Benjamin Graves Windhorst and Anne Wyllys Windhorst.

Sally outlived her husband, Jonathan King Graves, her daughter, Janet Baldwin Graves, and her son-in-law, James Charles Windhorst.

Sara Grey Terry was born in New York on September 21, during the hurricane of 1938, and grew up in Syosset and Laurel Hollow, Long Island. She spent almost all her summers in Small Point, Maine, and she and her husband of 30 years, Jon (who died in 1990), built a house in West Bath.

Sally attended Greenvale School and The Masters School, before moving on to study Philosophy at Wheaton College. When her children were young, she obtained an M. Ed. in English as a Second Language from Hofstra University. As the wife of an international banker, she created warm, welcoming homes in Manhattan, Long Island, Hong Kong, Taiwan, the Philippines, Singapore, London, Tokyo and West Bath, Maine, embracing each transition as a new adventure as she and her children had to start again in a new place.

Sally was an active, compassionate, and generous mother, sister, grandmother and friend. Her church was the beach and the woods, and her sacrament was life itself. She would try almost anything once, and she loved to travel and meet new people, garden, read, laugh, hike, boat, play tennis, do crosswords, watch PBS and ski. She did not enjoy board games, tardiness, swimming in cold water or anything “fancy”.  Always ready to feed and house a crowd, Sally showed her affection with careful personal attention, kind deeds, and her sense of humor. She made huge efforts for those she loved, often traveling far to see new digs and enthusiastically celebrate milestones or help with new babies and less-fun occasions. Even at 83, she would offer rides and meals to those who were sick or sad, and she quietly helped with tuition and bills for those who needed it. If you got in what she called “a pickle”, she would really listen and think about what was best for you before offering any advice or help; and even then, only if you wanted it.

As an international banker’s wife in the 60s,70s and 80s, Sally put in many hours hosting luncheons and dinners, attending social affairs, shepherding new arrivals and so on. She always had an independent job (paid or unpaid) to “stay sane”; and, in the constricted corporate culture, she was popular for injecting some fun and spontaneity into stuffy affairs, as well as for her warmth, her no-nonsense pragmatism and her often-wicked sense of humor.

She taught English as a Second Language for over 30 years to a wide array of students, often foregoing paid positions to work with those who needed it most. She had a keen, analytical mind, and she could be outspoken, but also extremely diplomatic. Over the years, she served on many committees and boards, including the Cold Spring Harbor Whaling Museum, the College Women’s Association of Japan, Maine Maritime Museum, MidCoast Hospital, The Bath Garden Club, West Bath Historical Society, and too many other school, town and community governance bodies to list here. Sally loved to play tennis and made many best friends on the court, playing until a month before her death. Her favorite couturier was LL Bean, she made a mean creamed chicken, and she sported a snazzy STG monogram on her license plate. She had a stiff-upper-lip, no-nonsense demeanor that was likened to that of a headmistress more than once, particularly when one had crossed a line. The original social distancer, Sally was irritated when COVID vaccinations brought hugging back, and she was famous for replying to the words “I love you,” with a brisk “Ditto” and an immediate exit from the room or phone call.

It is not a stretch to imagine that, if Sally were to come upon us grieving, she would stop in her tracks, draw herself up, raise her eyebrows, pin us with that irritated-headmistress-with-a-twinkle gaze and say something like, “You ARE aware that the concept of ‘til death do us part’ is for the lazy, are you not? Now, up you get, we’re off to walk the beach.”

In memory of Sally, please take a walk in the beautiful outdoors with a friend, or donations may be made to the: McLanathan-Phippsburg Fire and Rescue Fund, Inc. and mailed to P.O. Box 83 Phippsburg, Maine 04562

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