ESMOND-HARMSWORTH-Obituary

ESMOND HARMSWORTH

New York, New York

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New York, New York

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HARMSWORTH--The Hon. Esmond Vyvyan. Esmond Harmsworth died suddenly of natural causes on April 9, 2025 at the age of 57. He was traveling in Mauritius on holiday with his family. Born in London on June 18, 1967, Esmond was educated in England at The Dragon School and Eton College, and had fond...

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My dear Esmond, words can´t express how much it hurts me to know that you are gone for ever. It was such a pleasure and honor to work for you for almost 20 years, you really was a great human being and I will never forget how great you was with me, super generous person nand caring. Your love ones are in my prayers. I just can´t believe you are gone. May you rest in peace. Love always

Group of 10 Memorial Trees

My deepest condolences to Jerome, Alfred and Liliane. I didn´t know Esmond well, but we worked closely for about four months on my memoir he represented. Last time we spoke it was maybe a year ago. We talked about having our kids do a zoom playdate. Esmond was a fair and intelligent agent who pushed me to deliver my best work. Most of all, he exemplified warmth and humanity-qualities that are rare in any cutthroat industry. Rest in peace, Esmond. The world will miss you.

Esmond, you stayed with me even though it took forever to find a home for my book, and your perpetual optimism and sage advice kept me going. You are irreplaceable as a mentor, friend, and champion of writing. I still ask myself, "What would Esmond say?" Thank you.

Dear Esmond, I´m devastated. It feels like yesterday at brunch where I´d decided my scarf-as-a-headdress look was `it´ for the summer-because what could be more glamorous than some forgotten 80s actress stepping off a plane? You didn´t question it. You just laughed and handed me another marked-up draft. You printed the latest version of the book-who knows which round we were on-and pulled it out, full of handwritten notes. You said you´d type them up later, which I knew meant another round...

Dear Esmond, I´m devastated. It feels like yesterday at brunch where I´d decided my scarf-as-a-headdress look was `it´ for the summer-because what could be more glamorous than some forgotten 80s actress stepping off a plane? You didn´t question it. You just laughed and handed me another marked-up draft. You printed the latest version of the book-who knows which round we were on-and pulled it out, full of handwritten notes. You said you´d type them up later, which I knew meant another round...