Thomas Kent “T.K.” Carter was an actor and comedian with the kind of familiar face who felt like a cousin you grew up with, even if you only met him through a TV screen. The film and television mainstay passed away at the age of 69. He was found unresponsive in his home in Duarte, California, after a 911 call was placed on Friday evening. No foul play is suspected, and an official cause of death has not yet been released.
Carter’s passing closes the curtain on a five-decade career built on versatility, charm, and a comedic instinct so natural it felt like breath. Born in New York City and raised outside Los Angeles, he stepped into the spotlight early—first as a 12-year-old stand-up comic, working rooms that would intimidate grown men twice his age. That early baptism by stage light shaped the performer he would become: nimble, fearless, and always ready to turn a moment into a memory.
By the mid-1970s, Hollywood had taken notice. Carter made his screen debut in 1976 on “Police Woman, beginning a run of appearances on the era’s most beloved shows—”Good Times, The Waltons,” “The Jeffersons,” “Family Matters,” “A Different World” and more. He was the kind of actor who could slip into any world—sitcom, drama, sci-fi, or sketch—and make himself at home.
But for many, Carter will forever be Nauls, the roller-skating cook in John Carpenter’s 1982 cult classic “The Thing”—a role that cemented him in the canon of Black characters who brought depth, humor, and humanity to a genre that rarely made room for any of the above. His performance was a masterclass in presence: light on dialogue, heavy on impact. Even in a film defined by paranoia and isolation, Carter’s Nauls radiated warmth, wit, and a sense of grounded realness that made the terror feel even sharper.
Television audiences knew him just as well as Mike Fulton, the earnest, big-hearted teacher on “Punky Brewster,” where he appeared in more than two dozen episodes. For a generation of Black kids who didn’t always see themselves reflected in authority figures on TV, Carter’s portrayal offered something rare: a Black man in a position of care, patience, and steady guidance—without losing the humor that made him so beloved.
“You were an inspiration to me and a lot of other comedians,” Academy Award-winning actor and veteran comedian Jamie Foxx said in a social media tribute to Carter. “Please let us recognize TK Carter…a cornerstone of comedy.”
His résumé stretched across decades and genres: “Runaway Train (1985),” “Space Jam (1996),” “Domino (2005),” “NYPD Blue,” “Everybody Hates Chris,” “How to Get Away with Murder,” “The Way Back,” and recent guest roles on “Dave” and “The Company You Keep.” He was a working actor in the truest sense—never chasing celebrity, always chasing the next good role.
Carter’s gift was subtle but unmistakable. He had the rare ability to make a scene feel lived-in, to make a character feel like somebody you knew. His comedic timing was elastic—stretching to fill a room when needed, snapping back into stillness when the moment called for it. And beneath it all was a warmth that made him unforgettable.
T.K. Carter leaves behind a legacy woven through the fabric of Black television history—one built not on blockbuster fame, but on consistency, craft, and a spirit that made audiences feel like they were in on the joke with him. He was the friend in the break room, the uncle at the cookout, the teacher who saw something in you, the man who could make you laugh even when the world outside was doing the most.
He is survived by his wife Janet.