By walking into Harry’s New York Bar in Paris, I didn’t just enter a cocktail bar; I crossed into a space layered with memory. The bartender’s polished movements, the click of glasses, the nostalgic glow of the brass fixtures –they all echo an era when Hemingway sough both escape and inspiration there. The warm amber light seemed to hum with memory, as if the walls still whispered stories from the 1020’s, when Ernest Hemingway would sit here with friends, trading ideas and laughter that one day become a part of his timeless prose. It’s easy to imagine him nursing a whiskey-and-soda or a Bloody Mary, his sharp eyes observing the mix of Americans, Parisians, and dreamers.

My experience, decades later, carries a poetic symmetry – returning as someone with my own connection to the Hemingway legacy. Where Ernest once sat as a young writer defining a generation, I visited as someone who shares in that heritage, able to feel the pulse of his past in a very tangible way.

As I took my seat, I couldn’t help but imagine him nearby – my father-in-law, long before fame or reflection had settled over his name –just a young writer chasing truth in his words and courage in his life. It was moving to be in that space, to feel a quiet connection across time, not as a reader or admirer, but as a part of the thread of his story.

For me, the visit wasn’t just about the history of Paris or the allure of the Lost Generation ---it was about touching a small piece of family legacy, about feeling that, even decades later, Hemingway’s spirit still lingers where life, laughter, and language meet. To sip a drink where Hemingway once did is to share, for a moment, in his world—where Paris was young, creatively burned bright, and the lines between history and memory blur Beautifully.

Much to my surprise, and with no small measure of wonder, after the inception of the IBF in 1924, I found myself standing in a moment I never could have imagined. On Wednesday, October 15, 2025, one hundred and one years later, I was invited to be one of the very few women ever to be inducted into the IBF as the widow of Jack Hemingway. I am told I am in very good company, sharing this rare distinction with the incomparable Marlene Dietrich, a woman I have always admired. She was a cherished friend to both Ernest and Jack, which makes the honor feel all the more poetic, as though a quiet thread of history had gently extended itself to welcome me.

Some notable members of the IBF include Ernest Hemingway, Jack Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Theodore Roosevelt, Gene Kelly, and so many others whose legacies have shaped culture, art, and history. To stand even in the periphery of such names is humbling in the most profound way.

Adding to the beauty of the occasion, my husband Glen Charles, with his distinguished career as producer and writer of Cheers, was also inducted. To share that experience with him, side by side, made the evening feel almost luminous. It was a singular moment where our individual histories, our shared journey, and the legacies we are connected to seemed to meet and intertwine.

It was truly remarkable. The dual significance of both of us being inducted added an unexpected layer of romance and meaning, a kind of quiet affirmation of the paths that brought us here. It felt as though we were stepping into a room where the past and present held hands, honoring those who came before us while gently, lovingly, making space for our own stories.

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Angela Hemingway

Founder & Executive Chairman of the Board of Directors

Hemingway, LTD