Terry Gill was the kind of man who remembered things — the score of a game from thirty years ago, a joke he'd been waiting to tell you since the last time you saw him, what he paid to renovate the basement in 1993. He grew up on Merriman Road in Akron, Ohio, the son of Loretta Gill (nee King), who passed away in 1955, and James Gill. When Terry lost his mother, his grandmother Jane stepped in and became the steady center of the household. She handed out chores and rosaries in equal measure, and both felt like love.

Childhood on Merriman Road was exactly what it sounds like: baseball and football in the yard, flashlight tag after dark, and long summer days that ended with the whole family kneeling in the TV room while Grandma Jane led the rosary at the piano. His dad took them on country drives and to fireworks at Stan Hywet, to polo matches in Chagrin Falls and swimming at the lake. Winters meant skiing. His father volunteered with the Boston Mills ski patrol for years, and those trips planted something in Terry that never left him.

His first job was delivering the Akron Beacon Journal. He later landed what he considered a seriously enviable position: scooping ice cream at Mary Coyle's. Terry graduated from St. Vincent High School in 1972 and stayed close to his classmates the way some people stay close to family. He organized ski trips to Lake Tahoe and kept showing up to reunions decades later, because that's who he was — someone who didn't let the good things drift away.

Terry joined Massey Ferguson in May 1977, three weeks before he even finished his degree in Business at the University of Akron. He had interviewed for the job three times over several months, and when the phone call came with an offer, he was still on Merriman Road. Two years later the plant closed, and he took a leap — packed up and accepted a transfer to Des Moines, Iowa. He couldn't have known it then, but that decision changed everything. It's where he met Debra, and where the family he'd go on to build first took root.

Terry was proud of his children and not quiet about it. His work took him around the world, and he made sure his family caught that same love of travel, encouraging and supporting his kids in their own adventures whenever he could. His love came through in the phone calls, the humor that bridged any distance, and the kind of steady encouragement that doesn't require a presence in the room. The values he'd gotten from his grandmother and his father — work hard, stay loyal, keep the faith — were passed on not through speeches, but through the example of a life lived intentionally.

Later in life, Terry reconnected with his late mother's side, the Kings. The pain of losing his mother before he ever truly knew her was something he'd carried quietly for a long time. Reconnecting to the Kings was a healing relationship that he didn't take for granted.

He loved sports. He loved trivia. He loved a good story told around a table with people he'd known for forty minutes or forty years. He was proud of Akron, proud of the life he'd made, and genuinely glad for the people who'd been part of it.

What most people didn't fully know was how quietly generous he was. Checks sent to charities, never mentioned. Years given to the Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Children’s Choirs, Soccer Programs, and his church were done without fanfare. His family saw a glimpse here and there but that kind of giving, done without an audience, was something Terry kept mostly to himself. It might be the most Terry thing about him.

Terry Gill died as he lived: surrounded by the evidence of a life well spent. He wasn't a man of grand gestures. He was steady. Funny. Loyal. The kind of person who made you feel like you mattered, because to him, you did.

He is survived by his children, Justin (Kathleen), Mark, Patrick (Palak), and Heather (Samuel), and his grandchildren Lydia and Simon, Josephine and Lochlan. He also carries with him Roman, Patrick and Palak's son, who died in the summer of 2025 — a loss the whole family holds. Terry lived to know that Roman has a younger brother on the way, due this May. That kind of hope, arriving in the middle of grief, was something Terry understood.

Terry is also survived by his ex-wife, Debra Gill, with whom he raised four children and shared many good years. He is survived by his siblings Jim, Mike (Kathleen), and Mary — fellow veterans of Merriman Road — and by his dear friend Kate, who was a meaningful presence in his later years.

He leaves behind the extended Gill and King families, and a long list of friends who span the country. That list says everything about Terry.

Funeral service will be held at 3:00pm Saturday, March 21, 2026 at Our Savior’s Lutheran, 3301 Corbridge Lane, Rockford, IL 61107 with a visitation held at the church from 1:00 – 3:00pm. To live stream the service please click on the following link; facebook.com/oslcrockford/live Terry's remains will be interred at a later date in Akron, Ohio, where his story began.

In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation to a nonprofit with a mission you are passionate about as Terry did throughout his life. If you need a few ideas, here are some of the many that Terry supported consistently:

National Park Conservatory Association 

Rockford Rescue Mission

St. Jude’s

United Way

Wounded Warrior Project