It is with profound love and deep sorrow that we announce the passing of Kenneth “Ken” Jude McMullen, who died on April 27, 2025, in Salt Lake City, Utah, at the age of 59, following a brief illness.
Ken was the kind of man who made life feel steadier just by being in it. He was a devoted father, a loving partner, a loyal friend, and the person you could always count on—no matter what. He didn’t need recognition or attention—he just showed up. That was his philosophy: show up, be present, do the right thing and keep showing up for the people you love. And he did. Again and again.
Whether it was building a late-night school project, taking a difficult phone call, or just sitting beside you in silence, Ken never missed a moment that mattered. Being loved by him meant knowing—without a doubt—that someone had your back. He made you feel safe, heard, and completely loved. Always.
Ken was born on June 9, 1965, in Boston, Massachusetts, the beloved son of Patricia (Larson) McMullen of Wayland and the late James P. McMullen, Jr. He was raised in Cochituate (Wayland), at the end of Fuller Road, in a home full of laughter, music, and the joyful chaos that comes with being the middle child of six—James McMullen III, Catherine Tardiff, Marie McMullen, Judith McMullen, and Brian McMullen. Those early years were defined by bike rides through the neighborhood, hockey games on frozen ponds, long drives piled into station wagons, and late-night stories on the couch. They shaped the heart of a man who never forgot where he came from—and who would go on to create that same kind of love and stability for others.
Ken built a remarkable three-decade career at Fidelity Investments, where he was respected for his insight, professionalism, and quiet integrity. At 55, he embraced a new chapter by transferring to Fidelity’s Salt Lake City office—a move that reflected his enduring curiosity and openness to life’s next adventure.
In Utah’s Wasatch Mountains, Ken found a love of skiing that became almost meditative. He found peace in skiing—the rhythm of it, the solitude, the clarity. He’d chase the last chair to the summit, then pause at the top just to take it all in: the cold air, the stillness, the view. Most of the time he had a craft beer in hand and a deep sense of contentment—the kind that comes from truly appreciating where you are. He found that same peace on bike rides, quiet fishing trips, and long walks with Walter, his dog and loyal sidekick. He had a reverence for the simple things. He knew what mattered, and he made the most of it.
Still, nothing brought Ken more joy than being a father. He poured everything he had into raising his three children—Lauren McMullen of Bolton, MA. Madison McMullen of Salt Lake City, and Brenden McMullen of Washington, D.C. He was a patient, hands-on, full-of-smiles dad. He coached sports teams, built Destination Imagination props, helped with math homework, played basketball in the driveway, and drove into the city just to meet you for coffee and a hug. He planned ski weekends and trips that brought us all closer together. Dad never missed a moment that mattered. He told us often that we were his greatest accomplishments, and he meant it. We felt it every day—in the way he showed up, in the way he listened, and in the well-timed texts he’d send just to say, “I’m proud of you, you got this.”
Later in life, Ken found deep love and partnership with Janine Piper, his best friend and companion. Together, they built a life filled with travel, Sunday dinners, and shared adventures—from Scotland to Mexico to the quiet, everyday joys around their kitchen table. Ken embraced Janine’s family as his own, becoming a steady presence in her children’s lives and a proud grandfather to her grandson, Cooper. He showed up for them with the same heart, the same humility, and the same unwavering love.
Ken is survived by his mother; his five siblings and their families; his partner; his three children, whom he loved beyond measure; and his dog, who stayed faithfully by his side. He is also survived by many nieces, nephews, cousins, and lifelong friends who will carry his memory forward with gratitude and love.
To know Ken was to feel steady. He had a quiet way of showing us what really matters—not success or recognition, but how you show up for the people you love. He didn’t need to say much; he just lived it. Every day. He was present, generous, and dependable in a way that made life feel a little safer. We’ll carry him with us—in the stories we tell, the people we show up for, and the quiet calm and strength we pass on. His legacy is the love he gave so freely, the calm he brought into every room, his smile, and the quiet strength that made all of us feel safe, seen, and deeply supported.
A Mass of Celebration will be held on Saturday, May 17, 2025, at 2:00 PM at Good Shepherd Parish at St. Zepherin Church, 99 Main Street (RTE 27), Wayland, Massachusetts.
Please honor Ken by doing what he did best—show up for someone you love, say “I’m proud of you,” and take a moment to enjoy the view. Or simply do something that brings you joy: go for a walk, call your family, grill something delicious, or watch the sun set.
In lieu of flowers, we encourage heartfelt donations to The Road Home https://theroadhome.org/donation-form/.
A celebration of Ken’s life will also be held this summer near the ocean he loved, in Manomet, where his stories will be shared and his memory lifted through food, music, laughter, and togetherness—just as he would have wanted.
