Sarah’s Story by Crystal Brumme Kimball, publisher She fi nally got her story on the front page of
T e Washington Post. Below the fold, but it was still T e Washington Post. For every news reporter, to have a story on
the front page of T e Washington Post is to have achieved the Holy Grail. But the Holy Grail is to have one’s byline appear above the story, not to be the story. Before she appeared on the front page, be-
fore she was a news reporter for the Winchester Star in Virginia, Sarah Libbey Greenhalgh was a part of our world. Sarah Libbey Greenhalgh was an outstanding steeplechase photographer and a dynamite journalist– one of the best. But Sarah was only part of our world, one
professional foot in equine publishing, the other professional foot in the “real” news world, working for a variety of newspapers in the Washington, D.C. region. In many ways, Sarah was too good for our
world. She had that beat-reporter discipline combined with Rottweiler-esque tenacity when there was a story. She had the proverbial “nose for news;” she searched for truth and had the indefatigability of a hound when running a line. When she was on a story, and she thought there was a wrong involved, boy, watch out! She would come out swinging, shooting from the hip! Because she was so good, because she could be a crusader, and because she was fear- less, she was really too good for our world. Equine publishing is rarely confrontational.
It’s intimate and clubby. Too often, “equestrian news” articles are really press releases. “Eques- trian journalism” is not about the search for truth; it’s about massaging egos or public rela- tions, putting “the sport” (whichever sport that may be) in the best light possible. Never look at the warts, just promote the positive. As editors and publishers in the equestrian
world, we don’t cut our teeth on hard-hitting, groundbreaking journalism, working in a bull- pen of other reporters and layers of editors. Our staff s are lean and our editors are often wearing many hats, selling ads while doing the bookkeep- ing and managing production.
Sarah deserved
better than we could provide. She deserved that rumpled curmudgeonly,
chain-smoking old
grump right out of central casting, challenging every word, every fact, throwing the piece back and making her redo it until he was satisfi ed that when they went to press, they were on solid foot- ing - because when that story hit there would be to be hell to pay.
*********
Sarah Libbey Greenhalgh grew up in Potomac. Her mother, Sara Lee Greenhalgh, is a longtime active member of the Potomac Hunt Club. Her father was Georgetown Law professor William 12 | THE EQUIERY | AUGUST 2012
(Bill) Greenhalgh. Sarah Lee and Bill had two daughters: fi rst Kate and then twelve years later Sarah. Sarah was a gradu- ate of the Oldfi elds School in Glencoe. After studying fi ne art in Italy, she got her undergraduate degree at Lynchburg College, and then did graduate-level work in Columbia University’s School of Journalism. Over the years, Sarah worked for a variety
Sarah Libbey Greenhalgh March 21, 1964 – July 9, 2012
Portrait photo taken by her friend and colleague Douglas Lees in 1986
of “real” media outlets, including Gannett, Ga- zette and ARCOM (now Times Community Media), publishers of the Fauquier Times-Dem- ocrat. T e past year she was employed fulltime by T e Winchester Star. But her heart was with the horses, and her
work was published in T e Equiery, T e Chronicle of the Horse, T e Maryland Horse, the Mid-Atlan- tic T oroughbred, and Steeplechase Times. When T e Washington Post published her stories, they were usually her racing stories but also articles on the Washington International Horse Show. “Her articles were not just ‘written,’” remi- nisces former Chronicle publisher and co- photographer Rob Banner, “they were beau- tifully crafted. Her insight and sensitivity to everything related to the sport was woven into every word. She was the consummate journal- ist: probing, curious, a fi end for facts. She was smart and gutsy. And her photography always caught the emotion and that thrill of victory.” Her photography was incredible – indelible.
We can only fi nd one formal accolade (but it’s a big one, an honorable mention for an Eclipse Award), but we know that almost every stee- plechase person has at least one framed pho- to taken by Sarah, and frequently it is his or her favorite photo. Likewise, those who knew Sarah were probably lucky enough to receive one of her homemade holiday cards, featuring clever portraits of her beloved cats, or stunning images of the magnifi cent great cats that she took while on African safari.
Something About Sarah
“It is always diffi cult to memorialize an in- dividual who made great contributions while avoiding the publicity of center stage. It is par- ticularly diffi cult when the person, by design or nature, shielded these gifts in a complex and often diffi cult personality. We will remember his battles, not always picked very carefully, but waged with tenacity and purpose.” - written in
memoriam by John R. Kramer, Wallace J. Mlyniec and Greta C. Van Susteren about Sarah’s father, former associate dean of of Georgetown University Law School; 1994. Why are we including a quote about Sarah’s father? Because Sarah most certainly was her father’s daughter, and the task of memorializing Sarah is just as diffi cult for those of us who knew Sarah as it was for those who knew her father. Nevertheless we make a living attempting to capture in words and photos that essence of life, and so we will try to capture Sarah’s spirit here.
Rob Banner, former publisher of T e Chronicle of the Horse, on shooting steeplechase races with Sarah: I knew her for nearly 25 years. She made every race, every point-to-point without fail. You could count on her like a clock. Of course we met at all the local meets in Virginia and Maryland, but I saw her everywhere,
from
Nashville to Camden, Saratoga to Keeneland, Atlanta to Far Hills. When I pulled up, she was already there. She did it all on her own dime, driving this funky little red jeep which had “carpe diem” on it.
I walked with her countless times from the
paddock to the last fence and back again. It was always an education as she swaggered to the jump recounting every fact, fi gure, name and number associated with every horse and rider, including past performances in chronological order! She loved everything about the sport, and she never tired of talking about it.
Liz Beer, owner of Beresford Gallery, on growing up with Sarah in Potomac and playing polo: One of the things she kept a lid on was her skill as a rider and her love for polo. She was our polo groom and part of our family. She really showed her spirit and tenacity honing her groom- ing skills at the Muldoons, working amongst the very South American male grooms in the 1980s. She was sassy and competitive with the other professional grooms while winning the horses over with kindness. She could and had to ride anything presented, and she took great pride in the turnout of her ponies, something
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