Thomas “TK” Henry Killion

Lake Placid, FL & Scarborough, ME — Thomas “TK” Henry Killion, 81, passed away on October 28, 2025, at his home in Florida surrounded (as always) by memories, warmth, and stories that could fill a lifetime. Born March 10, 1944, in Boston, MA to the late Thomas Sr. and Catherine (Ryan) Killion.

Tom grew up in South Boston where he, as a kid in Southie, known widely as “TK”—was a Boy Scout, an altar boy for eight years at St. Augustine church, played football, ran track, and yet he and his cousin/best friend, “Tommy Mac”, still found time to make a bit of mischief in the neighborhood. He also took dance lessons at Arthur Murray, where he became a very good dancer, a talent that he continued to enjoy throughout his life.

Right after graduating from high school, Tom joined the Air Force, stationed at Loring AF Base in northern Maine, and found his calling as an air traffic controller, a career very fitting for someone who loved telling people where to go. During this time, he also met a county girl, Bonnie Malm, whom he married in 1965. Even though they divorced, they remained close friends throughout his life. After his service, he continued with the Federal Aviation Agency, guiding pilots safely from Dulles to Portland and eventually working at the Regional Office in Burlington, MA. He retired after 35 years, proud of a career built on focus, responsibility, and the calm but direct voice that pilots can probably still hear in their heads.

From 1983 to 1991, Tom is fondly remembered as a fixture in the upper bleachers of the Portland Expo, video camera permanently in hand, faithfully recording endless track meets. When his grandchildren, Kyle and Emily, began their athletic adventures, he showed up all over again—through rainy lacrosse games, subzero hockey rinks, and any track or field they set foot on. He never hesitated. He loved being there. His steady, quiet pride was one of the truest parts of who he was.

Tom was a devoted Boston sports fan in the truest sense—meaning he cheered loudly, swore passionately, and believed fully that the Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics, and Bruins could hear him through the TV if they were messing up. He endured decades of heartbreak with the Red Sox before finally getting the payoffs he always swore were coming. Whether he was in Maine, Florida, or somewhere in between, Tom kept the Boston spirit alive, usually paired with snacks, a beverage, and some colorful commentary.

Tom split his retirement between Scarborough, ME, and Fort Myers Beach, and after Hurricane Ian, Lake Placid, FL, following the sun and joining any club that involved friends, food, and good music: the Moose, the Eagles, the American Legion, and the VFW, where he enjoyed volunteering as a cook. He never met a dance floor—or a dive bar—he didn’t like, and he approached retirement with the same enthusiasm he brought to everything else: all in, why not, let’s go.

Tom was never one to shy away from a challenge—or a questionable idea. Dig their own pool or buy a farm and raise chickens? Why not? Tow his father-in-law behind a snowmobile on an inner tube or buy a boat with zero boating experience? Absolutely. And anytime Bonnie started a sentence with “I have a great idea, how long can it take?”—a phrase that came to strike fear in Tom’s heart, as it reliably preceded at least 12 hours of hard labor – he did it anyway.

He loved to travel, and his curiosity took him everywhere from Ireland and England to Iceland, a remote Alaskan fishing adventure, and many states between the East and West coasts. Tom was a fiercely independent soul who kept a lot of himself close to the vest, but his love for his children and grandchildren was unwavering.

He is survived by his daughters, Heather and her husband Jay Mazur, and Heidi Killion and her partner Patrick Dimick; his ex-wife and continued friend, Bonnie Killion; grandchildren, Kyle and Emily Labbe; bonus grandchildren, Alexa, Lynden, Eva, and Zoe Mazur; and great-grandson Archer. He also leaves behind his sister Anne Killion and her husband Bob Yurcina, and many friends.

Services will be held at a later date next Spring, which is exactly how Tom would’ve wanted it—no rush, no fuss, and preferably somewhere warm with good music, good stories, and the people he loved most.