
Sally-Ann Dale

In Loving Memory of Sally-Ann Dale
Please use this site as a space for mutual grief.
Anyone who met Sally knows the breadth of her heart. She could forge a deep, intimate connection in the time it took to order a Big Mac in the airport. She fell in love with the old lady who lives on the steps of the church at the end of her street and every administrative person I've dealt with in the last few days has taken a minute out to tell me how much she meant to them.
We want this page to acknowledge that there may be thousands of people out there who have been touched by her kindness and acceptance - and may find catharsis in sharing and being part of what we imagine to be a vast and far flung community of very sad people right now.
Please allow this to be a gathering space. Say and much or as little as you wish. Absolutely everyone is loved and appreciated under the umbrella of Sally.
On behalf of, Matilda & Saul x
Website
You can visit Sally-Ann's website to learn more about the dedication and passion behind her work.
www.sallyanndale.com
Gallery
Memory wall
Though time brought fewer encounters—as the girls became more independent and their bond deepened—the trust and complicity within our shared history remained. Together, the four of us shared many laughs and lessons. I am profoundly grateful to these girls for bringing Sally and me together on their journey.
It was always a comfort to trust Sally's non-judgmental nature, her great capacity for empathy and compassion, especially in those uncertain and awkward moments of motherhood. Her smile, her grace, her warmth were always there to welcome you with a sense of belonging.
I will hold onto the memories dearly, but the truth is, I already miss you Sally. Saudades...
-I heard about a girl named Matilda in Wylie's nursery school that was shy and he would make her laugh. What good friends they were.
-I was so curious to meet her parents (Oli and Sally)
-Sally and I bonded over Isabel Marant at a birthday party (2010)
-always happy to see her at drop off, school events, we started talking more and more
-we started confiding in each other
-we became friends
-we took the kids to Miami one Spring Break and saw the crocodiles in the Everglades
-we smoked a cigarette together outside our school fundraiser
-we talked about creativity, art, books, film, design, style, poetry
-where we grew up and where we are
-we would complain to each other and really listen
- I always wanted to hear what she had to say
-i always wanted to tell her what was going on
-we would have a drink at Diner on Friday nights and I had to sit on the side of her good ear
-during Covid we would take long walks and we kept it up after
-we would look into people's homes and she would create a story of how she would be if she lived there, an old loft in Greenpoint, a slick new apartment on the waterfront or a brownstone. She had a life and a story for each one
-there were endless memes...after Lola mostly dog memes
-she was so funny
-and smart
-she could see things other people couldn't
-she wanted the best for Matilda and Saul
-she worked on that and made it happen, they were always her priority
-she was the first person I told that I wanted to leave my marriage
-when I introduced her to my friends it's like she knew them all along
-we loved when we could hear Matilda, Wylie and Saul laughing in the next room
-sometimes she would drop by my apartment to say hi and I would make us dinner
-we would get chai teas on our walks
-we would complain that chai teas were $7
-shopping with her at a Detacher and how fab she looked in everything
-her style
-her taste
-swimming on the north fork
-health routine promises
-holding her hand in the hospital for an hour
I love you Sal
x
During the time, over a decade I worked for her, she was in my corner. She probably got me un-fired 4-6 times… She saw past my… lets say unorthodox, way of being an employee, and gave me many shots. Deuces to the sky! ✌🏼⬆️
-c
I wrote more a moment ago about your mom, how we loved her, and, more importantly how she loved you both. And I wanted to share a short, kinda funny, but ultimately meaningful story from a long time ago - before you were born, and not long after I first worked with her. It appeared in an article or two in the advertising press, but you may not have seen those, and so I wanted to put it here, for you, too:
I have one memory of your mom that stays in my mind - on a shoot years ago in an outdoor location the middle of nowhere in Spain (see the picture, attached), a dusty old stray dog made its way through the set, the entire crew, and stopped and sat in front of your mum - as if it knew the one person out of all of us it wanted to be next to. And it stayed with her all day long. She called the dog Molly, as she figured no one had ever given her the love of having a name. And that just about sums your mom up - everyone was like Molly, drawn to her because she was simply the best person to be with, whatever was going on. And your mom always gave something wonderful back, in often the simplest, easiest, but most perfect way.
We miss her so much, because she brought so much to the world and to all of us. She was an incredible person, your mom.

I cannot imagine the sadness you are feeling without your mom, and words can only bring so much comfort - but know this - everyone who knew her loved her SO, SO, MUCH, and that love is wrapped around you both right now and as long as you need it. I knew your mom for over 30 years and you were her greatest achievement in a life of amazing accomplishments. Every conversation I ever had with her always came back to you and the love she had for you both.
Matilda, Saul, as the mom that gave you life, she will always be there in every cell of your being, and every happy moment in your lives (and there will be joy in the days ahead) will be her happiness, too. She was an extraordinary, wonderful, beautiful, caring person who brought so much to the world - and with her in you, you will, too.
Sending all love to you, both - we are all here for you, whenever you need, and whatever you need x
My Deepest Condolences.
Sally & I met through our Saturday Morning Ritual which our friend & teacher Marina cultivates a Bhav of like-minded women where we work hard &, let go.
We bonded over matcha, essential oils & beautiful objects; I instantly felt the comfort level of an old friend. I’m grateful to have been touched by Sal’s generous spirit & her positive energy; her curious & up-for-the-challenge attitude which will always inspire me.
I truly miss this angel on earth.
Until we meet again on the celestial plane, Sally-Ann Dale 🙏🏼🌹🤍 Love You Forever, Babs















She was a force to be reckoned with, informed, passionate, excited and caring.
Her, Mana & Mark took me under their wing and made me develop the fab career, journey that I did. The memories are as endless as they are nuts, the times we had, the laughs the stories - I look back on amazing times and I’m absolutely devastated that she’s gone, she really is/was a credit to the world and especially her children, her best production yet & who she worshipped
Rest in Peace Sally 🫶

Matilda and Saul,
I am so sorry for your loss. This pain is insufferable. I just wanted to pass on my memories of your Mom who I worked with a long long time ago. She had just moved to New York, and she landed in the office with this incredible English Rose swagger. Her passion for creativity and production was incredible, and she took all of us Producers under her wing conveying her years of wisdom in just a few months. She always had a glint in her eye and saw the best in life and the best in everyone. She’d work hard, but then make sure to have fun (she even took a ballet class within a month of arriving into NYC). In fact I worked with her when she was pregnant with you Matilda and she was ecstatic, and she could not stop eating crisps! Your Mom was a force of nature. She will be so missed. Sending you strength.
Sally was warm and compassionate. She always knew the right words to say when you needed them most. She saw me laugh, cry, and break down more times than I can count, and she was always there—with a warm hug or a simple, comforting gesture.
Sally has been a part of my life since I was a little girl. She watched me grow and mature. She believed in me—with unwavering faith that I would reach my full potential (even when I sang… and we all know that’s not exactly my strongest skill). Sally was always in my corner, no matter what.
I will miss her thoughtful Instagram reels she’d send—about a casting call, or a Brazilian song. I will miss her playful, annoyed faces as she dealt with me and Matilda’s chaos or our adventures rummaging through her closet (which she HATED). I will miss her smiling face, hugging Lola outside the window as I came by to bother her just a little more.
I love her deeply. I will miss you so much, Sally.


It was a Saatchi party, around 1997, I think.
A famous venue. Champagne. Posh nibbles.
Typical Saatchi.
We’d all been there a while, when we moved to another room and the music started.
A reggae tune came on, and I began an attempt at a dance.
Nothing extravagant, just slow stepping, trying to catch the beat.
That’s when Sally started inching towards me.
With much smoother steps, catching the beat perfectly, and that sweet, knowing look on her face.
She rescued the moment and made me feel less of a dick.
She had an instinct for kindness, effortlessly wrapped up in her elegant coolness.
At the time, she was in the middle of moving from PA to producer.
We’d done one Army commercial together, with her as PA.
And then we did Army ‘Torchlight’.
I’m pretty sure it was her first job as a producer.
Of all the films I’ve ever done, it’s still probably my favourite.
She was a great producer.
But she was an even better dancer.
I worked for your mom while at Droga but strangely enough I only really got to know her after we both had left.
She reached out to me for a project and then we just kept in touch. She opened the door to her beautiful home, she gave me such great advice over tea and she reminded me that it’s a super power to lead with kindness.
I feel like we were just at the start of what could’ve been a great relationship. I was looking forward to more catch ups over drinks and sharing our learnings as we both navigated new careers.
She left us much too soon. I still can’t believe she’s not a phone call away.
Sending you both lots of love.
Lili
I remember thinking how cool -- her messy bun, wide pants and booties clacking on the cement floor.
Even in a department of 180, Sally-Ann made time for me. Sometimes a squeaky 26 year old, new to the injustices of the business.
She always listened, she always gave pointed advice, even if it was just a smirk or a stare. She was a terrific leader.
I aspire to be even a fraction as poised and elegant as Sally.
The last time we met was earlier this year for breakfast in Greenpoint.
We spoke about motherhood in our industry. I had a baby in April, and I wanted all the secrets to how we make this all work. Turns out there are no secrets to this. But she was profoundly proud of Matilda and Saul (who I may have officially met a few times, but usually just admired from the glass windows of her office in Droga!) They were no doubt her proudest achievement.
I will miss her dearly and cherish all of the wisdom she shared.
xxx
Epoch, my business, made some of our strongest work in collaboration with Droga, and Sally Ann and I shared pride in that work.
Sally Ann understood creative business building...we exchanged observations and ideas about running businesses, hiring, scouting for production talent, new ways of implementing process, ethical production practice, you know...all those unsexy things that make the world turn. We shared those ideas throughout the years. No matter how much time would go by, we could pick up the phone and count on each other for advice.
We had a delicious lunch at Houseman a couple of months ago. We were both considering life transitions…the next chapter, what would it be? We wondered how we might collaborate on some new venture…we tossed around different ideas. But it was never just about work….on that day we covered men, money, interiors, kids, and therapy. I mentioned I was curious about group therapy. And it happened that she was in a group and told me a striking story about her experience with it. Cut to - I’m scheduled to start a group with her therapist on Sept 8.
Thank you for the introduction, Sally. How is it possible that I won’t be able to tell you how the group is going. How is it possible that we can’t follow thru discussing our transitions, how is any of this possible?
To her kids, who I haven't met but heard so much about...your mother was a quiet powerhouse...a trusted female comrade in a world where trust is so precious and rare.
Sending big love your way.
During our overlapping years at Droga, Sally became a great friend and mentor. She made time in her busy schedule to set up one on one meetings with me to just see how I was doing. Before I moved into the city and was just commuting, Sally even offered I could stay at her place while she was on holiday. (Sadly I couldn't take her up on the offer because I'm allergic to cats!)
That's just the type of person Sally was to go out of her way to make sure everyone was taken care of. She will be greatly missed but her impact on all our lives will be felt forever.
Here’s what I remember.
Beyond all the years, beyond the many times she made the impossible possible, beyond the COUNTLESS times she enabled people to make the best work of their careers…what I remember is her light.
In an environment that was always high pressure - high expectations, high ambitions, the anxiety inducing feeling of trying to do something that’s never been before - Sally was eternally calm, and more than that, somehow just carried this sense of lightness and optimism that left you feeling light in your heart yourself.
Somehow, it made you believe that the impossible thing you’re trying to do isn’t so impossible. That of course we’re going to make that thing happen. It wasn’t what she said, it was a subtle but pervasive optimism that drifted through the room and gripped us with the same belief. It was, well, magic maybe. Her own kind of magic that no one else had. Yes, it was the twinkle in her eyes. Yes, it was her calm demeanor. Her laugh. But mostly, it was how she made people feel. Hopeful.
In a world where hopes can be dashed at every turn, a person like that is a wizard. She was our wizard.
We weren’t ready to lose Sally. But she left us all better than she found us and we are so grateful to have been in her light while we could.
It was a privilege to work with and become friends with your mum...For 6 years we were always in spitting distance of each other. All I wanted you to know was; not a day would go by that she wouldn't mention you both in some way, sharing a photo, a story, Saul having done something so charmingly caring, Matilda and her creativity, naughty stuff too!, the cat causing issues, dinner conversations and breakfast challenges, something, anything, you were her light, her proudest moments...she loves you so deeply and is so proud of who you are x
I was so deeply saddened to hear about your mom. She was such a special, brilliant, strong, and elegant woman. I always looked up to her, and she taught me so much—both professionally and personally.
I first met her when I was fresh out of college. She took a chance on me as her assistant, and as the production assistant for her department. I didn’t even know what a production department in advertising really was—but I was about to find out. My first crash course was in how to make her the perfect cup of tea. She walked miles through that office every day, darting from meeting to meeting, slipping into quiet conversations. I can still hear her short, quick, determined steps! I managed her calendar—a daily battle to guard her time—and had a front-row seat to the enormous range of things she handled. My job was to protect her time, support her, and make life a little easier.
She had an incredible ability to read people. I noticed that those she kept closest were always the ones with integrity, warmth, and character. She saw goodness and nurtured it. She also had a gift for navigating difficult people and tense situations with grace, teaching me how to do the same. One of her greatest strengths was her discernment, and I admired how she leaned on her carefully chosen circle when making big decisions.
I always admired her impeccable taste. She passed some of that on to me, and I carry it still. We shared a love of stationery—she always had her Smythson diary, and one year she gifted me one. Ever since, I’ve bought one for myself each year and never fail to think of her as I do. I even use the same Kaweco pen I once hunted ink cartridges for on her behalf.
Your mom had a playful side to her tastes as well. I’ll never forget the aqua-blue Hermes typewriter she found on Etsy—broken, of course—which she was sure I could help fix. I scoured the city until I found the last typewriter repairman in Gramercy, an elderly gentleman whose most loyal client was Woody Allen. We even daydreamed about making a short film about him, though it never came to be.
Another time, after lunch at Soho House, she fell in love with a certain armchair and became determined to track it down. I called and pestered their staff for nearly a year, only to finally admit defeat. When the Architectural Digest spread came out on your new home, we joked that Soho House was probably now wishing they’d sold it to her.
I'll always remember you two coming into the office to see your mom. She would always light up. She fiercely protected her evenings with you, no matter what work crisis was unfolding. You were always her number one priority.
We are all heartbroken to lose her, but no one more than you. I’m sending you both big hugs, and I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts and prayers for comfort and peace in the days ahead. She loved you beyond measure, and she will always be with you.
With love,
Heather
for you will carry you through, I promise...and speak to her, she's listening and will be your guiding angel for life...I lost my dad at 22, I'm 61..my life opened up beautifully as I'm sure she will guide the both of you, stay strong, the industry is praying for you, GOD BLESS...you mama was my client for over 20 years, so supportive, kind, beyond lovely...big shoes to fill but sure you will....for her...BIG HUGS
Colleen
Sally-Ann was great company at all the kids' events and parties we attended together. We spent time upstate with bonfires and s'mores and the kids running wild in the woods. Sally had this calm way about her and brought a lot of positive energy and humour to the room. She also had fab style—I loved when she'd stop by Daryl K's studio to check out the latest pieces.
Her kids meant everything to her. She was so proud when Matilda got into Trinity and was always focused on giving them the best opportunities she could.
It's hard to believe she's gone so young. Sally-Ann was a good friend, a devoted mom, and someone who made life a little brighter for everyone who knew her. She'll be greatly missed.
Matilda and Saul, however unimaginably painful this is for you, I hope you feel you can lean on any or all of us. Always. xx
When I first came to work with her at Droga Matilda was a toddler as was my son Hank. While it was a certainly a heady time at Droga, much of our relationship was spent navigating the complicated entanglement of career and motherhood, the desire for perfection in both, the consistent dance of pride and guilt, the fear of failure and the conviction of success.
What I would like you to know, Matilda and Saul, is that you were her everything. All of the hard things had a red string back to you two and her desire to protect, nurture and bring you joy.
Peace and love to you.
Despite only knowing her a short time, she reverberated with good energy and a happy smile. I remember her sense of fun and ability to laugh.
The world needs more good people in it, so it’s sad when one of the good ones gets off the train earlier than is needed.
May her happy spirit remain now and for many years to come.
With love and condolences
Phil
I first met Sally in 2006. I’d been living in the States for 5 years and was missing some of the social comforts and quirky idiosyncrasies of home. As soon as I met her she radiated so many things that were familiar and reassuring. Her smile was all encompassing and I later learned that if you said something funny one eye would begin to close a little further than the other, and if it was really funny you would be rewarded with a dam burst of laughter. Soon after that initial meeting I would go on to work for Sally for some 18 years and I would play for that laugh in every conversation I had with her, it was just so rewarding. She was a stylish woman and one of the biggest laughs I ever got was when I mentioned her ‘shirt’ of the day took me back to a time when David Essex was considered fashionable. I got the smile, I got the eye, I got the laugh and a whole gamut of other expressions that just felt so fulfilling. The familiarity, the comfort, the shared enjoyment of self depreciation and so so so much more. It’s heartbreaking that she has passed so soon. Reading all these tributes and thoughts will hopefully offer some comfort and consolation to us all, and of course her biggest loves of all Matilda and Saul, and their wonderful father Ollie. Sally loved and was loved, she was talented, creative and had an awesome visual sensibility. She loved to laugh, she cared deeply and she helped so many people that crossed her path. May her spirit live on in all of us that had the pleasure of knowing her.









I have so many memories of us together, I don't know where to start. We met when Sally first came to the US to work at Publicis around 20 years ago. Of course, I immediately noticed her bag—and that's how our relationship began, as it sometimes does with women. A compliment, a good chat, a friendship was born.
We soon had our first kids within months of each other in 2005: Sally's Matilda and my Fiona, then her Saul and my Liam in 2008. We were on our (very short, ahem) maternity leaves together and loved to meet for a burger at Schiller's or a walk around Williamsburg or the East Village, always keeping an eye out for "bits and bobs."
Our coffee dates evolved into weekend hangs with the kids—weekends at the old motel in Ditch Plains, or in the Catskills, taking the kids on snowy adventures, birthday parties, sleepovers. Our kids ran wild in the woods or at the beach while the two of us chatted in the corner, talking, processing, planning, complaining, organizing, sharing resources, ideas, hopes, and plans. Most of my pictures from our time together are just of the kids because we were usually the ones taking them, capturing their childhood while our friendship unfolded in the background.
Sally was a proper girls' girl, as I like to call it. Not that she didn't enjoy a good laugh with the guys—she had a quick sense of humor—but I always felt she had deep compassion and understanding of the working mom's conundrum: wanting to be a great mom while also feeling called to get ahead in business and provide for our children.
She understood the full catastrophe and the bargains we make, and held compassion for the complexities of life.
Sally worked incredibly hard on her inner life as well. She was deeply committed to doing all she could to be a self-aware, present, loving mother to Matilda and Saul first and foremost—and then, of course, for the wider world.
Sally was intellectually curious, had a fantastic eye for art and design, and a quick mind. She appreciated beauty in all its myriad forms, savoring simple pleasures like no one else I have ever met: a cup of tea in the garden, a roast chicken and potatoes on Sunday, crisp cotton pajamas, and a good book.
Sally respected everyone's "stuff"—their travails and what made people uniquely "them." She was always game to meet new people and learn.
Sally knew when to be hard, when to be soft; how to hold onto the utter absurdity of it all while also taking seriously what needs to be taken seriously.
Matilda and Saul were—are (finding it hard to do past tense)—everything to her. Her dedication through the process of finding schools, helping the kids with projects, taking them on awesome trips while also busting her ass in the ad world, and providing a beautiful life for her kids is awe-inspiring.
Back to the bag thing... Sal purchased the YSL Lou Lou bag in Cannes about a decade ago (some self-soothing amid the madness of Cannes, as one does). I openly coveted that bag, bringing it up at least twice a year. "Sally, should I just buy that f*****g bag?" I could never bring myself to go for it.
Today, walking through the airport, a bag similar to THE bag caught my eye, and within 10 minutes, it was mine. This may seem elitist, materialistic, and ridiculous, but... oh, who cares! I am certain Matilda and all our pals understand the modern-day NYC girl parable here—how much a nice treat for a self-made, hardworking woman and mother means. And, now I get to think of Sally every time I use it..
Sally was grace, style. imagination. grit, joy, and hilarity. She deserved to be here with us today. She deserved to see her children become adults, to enjoy the beautiful home she created for many years to come, and to experience the thrill of a new professional chapter.
Perhaps in the fullness of time, it will make some sense, but right now it just feels cruel and wrong.
Thank you, Sally, for every moment of your precious life you chose to spend with me, Fiona, and Liam. Love you always and forever.
💔
Sally gave me my first job in New York back in 2002 as an innocent young Irish lad fresh off the plane without much of a clue about anything. She hired me as a PA at Publicis and a few years later when she went on to Droga5, she gave me a call and brought me in as a producer. Those were obviously such formative and memorable times where we made friends and memories for life.
Sally was incredibly loyal and she always had my back. We shared many a cup of tea and a few cocktails too. The chats always went deep. More often than asking how a particular job was going, she would ask me how I was doing. I had the sense that she believed anything was possible for me and she gave me her full support when I decided to strike out as a director.
I’m so happy and grateful now that I got a chance to stay with Sally in New York when I was over last December. While her dog may have barked at me every time I moved, it didn’t stop the deep conversations about life and parenting and Cillian Murphy and everything in between. Plus, Saul made his signature guacamole, which was fire. When I think of her now, I remember her smile and laugh the most - so mischievous, warm and full of life.
Sally, may the road rise to meet you and the wind be always at your back.
xox
Sally-Ann, myself, and others shared a rental house in Park City for Sundance in 2020, just before the world turned upside down.. I remember walking in to the house to discover Sally-Ann and John Benson meditating on the living room couch. I stood and watched them go inward, admiring their practice and their peace. It was lovely to witness and felt good to silently be a part of. When the timer went off, and they slowly opened their eyes, I watched them give eachother the kindest, knowing smile. I'll never forget it.
My deepest condolences to all that knew and loved Sally Ann, but especially to her children. I looked up to your mother as a woman, as a mother, as a creative person, and as a friend. She is gone FAR too soon and will be dearly missed.
With love from Los Angeles,
Stephanie Hodge
Sally touched so many of our lives and it has been incredible to see that in the stories being shared this week. From the simple gesture of afternoon tea, to morning small chats, those tiny moments she created clearly made an impact on each of us and its a testament to her spit.
There is a gap you can really feel right now
Like everyone here, I feel robbed of saying goodbye,
thinking about the trivial last messages we exchanged ages ago.
This week has been a rollercoaster of grief
from shock to sadness,
to now figuring out how to accept it,
I didn’t want to write anything because it felt like doing so would be a practice in moving on.
There is no way of filling the void Sally has left, but I hope to keep her memory alive, by remembering her spirit. Her generosity, her laughter, her kindness.
Thank you, Sally, for the environment you created and for providing a model to me and so many others to follow.
Such a loss, the world has lost a legend.
VALE.
That wonderful disarming smile and
Warmth, always delighted with something, always happy to see you and hear your story … lots of love to everyone who’s feeling all this xx
However, nothing was as important to Sally as Matilda and Saul. Her love and dedication to them was unwavering and even when she wasn't with them, she was in constant pursuit of their growth and happiness. It was her best and favorite role of all and she excelled at it.
It's hard to believe I'm writing about my dear friend and I have tears in my eyes as I do but I am reminded that the pain of our grief is equal to the depth of our love and for Sally there was no shortage of that. Sally, although I am crushed we will no longer walk this path together, I feel so fortunate to have been lucky enough to have had you in my life. I will so miss laughing with you, crying with you and, of course, the days we would "play office" and amuse one another hysterically. I hope you are somewhere picking up lots of "bits" with cozy socks on and a cup of tea waiting.... xxx

Least expected, violent force.
Insufferable, human shock.
Monday, as one of those days.
To reckon with your whole existence.
Question value in every moment... where the measure of performance is only time itself
and how we truly choose to spend it.
We lose a leader, a mother, a force that's fed so many.
For the past of several decades.
Of beautifully deviant cultures.
Of widely varied skillsets.
Uncompromised taste and character.
Spanning gradient-like textures.
Sally set new bars.
As human, colleague, mentor.
A supportive, loving nature, creatively-driven instinct for unimaginable heights.
As individuals, in community.
A reason to show up daily.
That morning cup of tea (cold brew with Dos Coffee).
That random British biscuit.
Through love, respect, through shared desire.
For an impact on our week, For a placement on our world.
Immense immeasurable passion.
Infectious and contagious. For the time to process such an exit
stands on par with the years of her sweet harvest.
Of care and such attention
to every detail in her craft.
For the sake of friends and family.
For the sake of art and progress.
We'll miss you oh so much.
The random thoughtful check-ins.
The local BK gossip.
The care for how we're doing.
Your favorite new design swipe.
We'll pour a few out for you.
In celebration and momentum.
For the love of God and time,
for a memorably good time.
Memorial
Donate
They work to prevent deaths during pregnancy and childbirth. Every year, more than 300,000 women and girls die from pregnancy-related complications. That’s one mother every two minutes. Most of those deaths are preventable.
The causes aren’t dramatic. They’re quiet. Lack of access. Systemic neglect. Racism. In New York City, Black women are nine times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women. Seventy-five percent of those deaths didn’t need to happen.
Sally-Ann found her way to the organization through her OB-GYN, Dr. Jacques Moritz.
What she loved about Saving Mothers is how direct the impact is. You know exactly where your money is going.
https://savingmothers.org/donate

