May Elizabeth Culotta

May Elizabeth Culotta, of Beaumont, died peacefully in her sleep at home on Wednesday, April 23, 2025. She was born on June 20, 1933, in Fort Worth to Ruby Conner Mericle and Herschel Mericle. She spent her early childhood in the tiny east Texas town of Apple Springs before the family moved to the big city of Beaumont, where May attended Beaumont High and later Lamar College. During her two years at Lamar her nickname was “Slim” (she was pushing 95 pounds at that point) and she was a scholarship recipient, a Distinguished Student, a cheerleader, and a singer in the college chorus.

There she met Ed Culotta of Beaumont, and a life-long love began. May and Ed were married August 30,1953, in Beaumont. Together they had five children over a period of ten years. For twenty-seven years, as Ed’s Army tour ended and his career took off, May shepherded her brood around the country, moving to Fort Riley Kansas, New Orleans, Houston, Sunnyvale California, and back to Beaumont in 1977. In 1980, as the last of the kids were leaving the nest, she convinced Ed they should open Computer Concepts, Inc., one of the first retail computer stores in southeast Texas; together they built it into a chain of seven stores throughout the region. After selling the business, May fulfilled a promise to herself, completing her college studies, graduating cum laude and Phi Kappa Phi with a Bachelor of Applied Arts and Sciences degree from Lamar University in 1989. She and Ed then moved to St. Louis, Missouri, to pursue a successful business venture in the medical products field, returning to Beaumont in 1993. Thereafter, they built a retirement home in Angel Fire, New Mexico, where for fifteen years they lived a lifelong dream of waking up in alpine splendor every day. After Ed’s COPD made that dream impossible, they established their home in the countryside near Glen Rose, Texas, for several years. Eventually, the draw of family and better medical care for Ed led them back to Beaumont, where Ed died in June 2023. Their partnership lasted seventy years.

That was May’s itinerary, but it doesn’t begin to tell her story. May grew up Baptist and poor in the east Texas hills, riding horses on dirt roads and feeding the chickens. Her country relatives called her Fannie Mae. Yet from girlhood she exuded a quiet grace and discretion that would have been appropriate in a royal court. Her friends knew her as demure, generous of spirit, and kind to a fault. But she was not timid: when she decided Ed was The One, she left both her college studies and the Baptist faith, and converted to Roman Catholicism, no small matter at that time and much to the consternation of her family. She was deeply spiritual, a devout and literate follower of the Church all her adult life, and a frequent church volunteer and supporter. And with her signature kindness and charm she eventually won her Baptist family over.

She had a passion for education that started young. In Apple Springs, when her older sister, Wanda, started school at the one-room, all-grades schoolhouse, May cried every day until she was admitted alongside Wanda, a year early. She won the spelling bee her first day, having already taught herself to read.  Naturally, she ensured that all five of her children received Catholic educations, often straining the household budget, and she encouraged them to embrace education and excel in it.

She mastered new cities, states, and schools with aplomb, juggling resources, rugrats and bureaucrats while Ed’s job took him constantly on the road. Five days a week for years she managed every last household detail. While embracing the role of full-time mom to an unruly mob, she never lost her own love of learning, making time somehow to continue her education, setting an example to her kids by taking college classes right alongside them, and eventually completing her undergraduate studies with honors.

She laughed easily, took great delight in people, and was a great listener. She loved new experiences, meeting new people, making and appreciating art and learning new things. She lit up a room when she walked in because she radiated kindness, warmth and happiness. She was an exceptional beauty all her life, both in her physical appearance and her inner spirit. Throughout her life, her moral force made those around her, especially her kids, better.  Kids were never luckier in a mom.

She was also a lot of fun. In addition to hosting all comers, especially in her magic mountain cabin in Angel Fire, she relished visits to art museums, cathedrals and temples around the world, riding ATVs through the Sangre de Cristos till her face was “raccooned” with dust, snow-skiing (into her late 70s!), camping in state and national parks, and playing games and baking cookies with her grandkids. She reveled in snarky jokes with her granddaughters, that exception to her otherwise demure sense of humor emerging only late in life. When she and Ed moved to the Glen Rose property, May again fed chickens. Asked by one of the kids “how is raising chickens here different from your childhood experience?”, she deftly replied, “Well, for one, I can’t see these birds through the holes in the floorboards.  And the wallpaper in this house doesn’t flap when there’s a breeze.”

May was often tried, but rarely angry, and almost never raised her voice except in song. She had an extraordinary ear for harmony and a pitch-perfect soprano. One of her favorite things was to sing with her sister, her children, her grandchildren, or best of all, with her Eddie. When she sang it was with such love and joy that everybody would stop to listen. Because she sounded like, well… an angel. Now she has joined the choir of angels: God has his soprano, Eddie got his girl back, and all is well.

May is preceded in death by her husband of 70 years, Edward Culotta; her sister, Wanda Fiorenza of Beaumont, Texas; and her parents. She is survived by her five children, sons, Keith and wife, Pam, of Village Mills, Texas; Ken and wife, Anne, of Sarasota Florida; Tom and wife, Deborah, of Pitman, New Jersey; and David and wife, Faith, of Dallas Texas; daughter, Lisa May of Wichita Falls, Texas; six granddaughters: Angelena Culotta of New Orleans, Louisiana; Gina Culotta Buntin and husband, Dwayne Buntin of Selma, Texas; Christina Rommelman and husband, Matt Rommelman of Bellingham, Washington; Elizabeth Culotta of Austin, Texas; Emma Culotta and husband, Matt Weber, of Austin, Texas; and McKenzie Culotta of Boston, Massachusetts; grandson, Nicolas Culotta of Dallas, Texas; great-grandsons, Cayde Buntin of Selma, Texas and Owen Edward Weber of Austin, Texas; great-granddaughter, Eleanor May Rommelman of Bellingham, Washington; and brother -in-law, Reverend Joachim Culotta OP of Denver, Colorado.

May’s last years and her passing were eased immensely by capable caregivers who gave her their best, particularly Cyndi Conn, Breana Davis, Dora Tapia and Lisa Giroir. The family cannot thank these incredible women enough for their heartfelt, professional, and compassionate care of our mother.

A Memorial Mass will be celebrated at 11:00 a.m., Thursday, May 1, 2025, at St. Anne Catholic Church, 2715 Calder Avenue, Beaumont. Her cremation arrangements were handled through Broussard’s Crematorium under the direction of Broussard’s, 1605 North Major Drive, Beaumont.