William Cecil Lyon passed away peacefully on April 28, 2026, in Essex, CT, the town he loved and called home. He was 76. Born in New London, Nov. 28, 1949, to Claire Mitchell Lyon and William Doane Lyon, Cecil grew up in Essex as the youngest of three children and developed a deep affection for New England’s coastline and character.
Before graduating from Suffield Academy, and the University of Denver, Cecil spent a formative fourth-grade year on Harbour Island, off the coast of Eleuthera. The experience left such a lasting impression on him that he returned almost every year for several decades and maintained lifelong friendships on the island.
After college, Cecil moved to New York City, where he built a successful career in advertising. One evening, there was a knock at his apartment door. On the other side stood Linda Beardsley, coincidentally a fellow Denver alum, who was locked out of her friend’s apartment next door. Until that moment, she knew Cecil only as “that guy at DU who had a golden retriever and wore topsiders.” They married in 1977, and returned to Essex in 1980 to start their family.
In 1986, Cecil purchased Leather Man Ltd., a belt manufacturing company in his hometown, in what he called the scariest decision he ever made. It became an outlet for his creativity and endless curiosity to try new manufacturing techniques and experiment with design.
Though Cecil liked to present himself as a flinty, hard-working, no-nonsense New Englander and “Swamp Yankee,” he was anything but conventional. His dry sense of humor made him hard to forget, and people would often light up at the mention of his name.
He loved golf for the exact reasons many people don’t: its lack of forgiveness, unrelenting humility, and the never-ending work it required. Fly-fishing fit the bill, too. He genuinely enjoyed the struggle of trying to improve.
He loved Jack Russell terriers precisely because they were so bad. Many of the best Lyon family stories involve chaotic late-night Jack Russell rescues from possibly rabid raccoons. And he loved boats. Rowing up Seldon’s creek, Cecil once said, “I’m not a religious man, but for me, this is as close as it gets.” His Dyer 29, Sea Lion, was in many ways a reflection of him: classic, understated, and without fuss.
More than anything, Cecil loved his family, showing his unwavering devotion in quiet, practical ways. He was extraordinarily generous beyond his family as well, often giving away the belt on his waist to someone he just met, or donating custom-made product to charity events. He had communities in Fenwick, Connecticut; Blue Hill, Maine; Vero Beach, Fla., and in his later years, Fishers Island, where he found particular peace watching birds and children from the family home’s back porch, or playing a few quiet holes with his wife as the sun began to set.
Cecil would be uncomfortable with this kind of extended reflection, impatient to sign off with the line he loved most, “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
Cecil is survived by his beloved wife, Linda Lyon; his children, Jeffers Lyon (Julia) and Eliza Herbig (Max); his cherished grandchildren, Goldie and Lewis Lyon, and Henry and Heidi Herbig; and his brother, James Lyon (Diane). He was predeceased by his sister, Bary Lyon; and his parents.
Published by The Day on May 16, 2026.
