Dale "Mamou" Keith Fontenot

Dale was born to Atley and Elwanda Fontenot. He was a devoted father to his two children, Brittany Jade LaBove and Dale Keith Fontenot, Jr. His children were his pride and joy, and he loved them deeply. He was a man of strong will, independence, and determination who faced life’s challenges with courage and perseverance.

Dale was a skilled master electrician and the owner of Simple Electric and Electronics LLC, where he built a reputation through his hard work, knowledge, and dedication to his craft. His work was a reflection of the pride he took in providing for his family and serving his community.

Dale found great joy in the outdoors. He loved to hunt and fish, spending time in nature and making memories doing the things he enjoyed most.

Above all, Dale’s greatest legacy is the love he gave his family. He leaves behind his children, Brittany Jade LaBove and Dale Keith Fontenot, Jr., and his beloved granddaughter, Andie Jade LaBove. He is also survived by his nephew, Jody Paul Fontenot, his wife Vicky Fontenot, and their children, Victoria Anne Fontenot, Jonah Lutz, Ethan Paul Fontenot, and Creed Roy Fontenot; nephew, Kasey Lutz,and his niece, Amy Fontenot, Jason Henrickson, and their children, McKenzie Hudspeth and Jace Henrickson.

Dale was preceded in death by his wife, Candy Kyes Settoon Fontenot, parents, Atley and Elwanda Fontenot, and his siblings, Paula Fontenot, Cheryl Fontenot, and Julia Fontenot.

Dale’s family will continue to honor his life, cherish the memories they shared, and carry forward the love, strength, and values he instilled in them.

Though his time on earth has ended, Dale’s impact will continue through his children, granddaughter, nieces, nephews, family, friends, and all those whose lives he touched. He will be deeply missed and forever remembered.

Brittany and family would like to give tremendous thanks to the heartfeld loving care my Dad received at Ochsner Medical Center by his amazing nurses, Jessica, Taylor, Alexis and the rest of the medical staff. We would also like to thank St. Joseph's Hospice and The Carpenter House for the loving care given to my Dad in his final days. Special thanks to his nurses, Mark, Tracey, Mary Alice, Melissa, Sandy and Boots.

A celebration of life will be held for Dale on Saturday, August 1, 2026, 11:00 am at First Pentecostal Church of Denham Springs, 1020 S. Range Ave, Denham Springs, LA 70726. Central Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements.

For my Dad:

Sitting here trying to absorb the immeasurable loss of our dad. A man who fought the good fight against COPD for years. He often hid just how sick he was and needed help many times, but his stubbornness and fiercely independent nature made him want to handle everything himself.

The last 8 months were one long fight to get him back home, only to end up here. I’m trying to think of it more as a gain than the enormous loss it truly is. We were given 8 more months with him. 8 more months to love him, I got one more Good Friday, one more birthday,one more of his birthdays, one more Mother’s Day, and one more Father’s Day. I spent more quality time with him than I had since my twenties, and for that, I will always be grateful and for the extra time had with him and also with my brother.

Looking back at my childhood, it wasn’t always easy. My dad was the dad working late, and I was often the last kid picked up from daycare. I was always the kid who went to work with him and counted quarters and rolled them at a very young age. I often joke that’s how I ended up in business for a living. But that’s who he was—the hardest worker in the room. Every long day and late night was spent building a business he was incredibly proud of. He still made time to be the dad who entertained all of my friends and always made sure everyone was having a good time.

Watching him shaped the person I am today. He taught me to work hard, to never give up, to keep fighting, and to always pay attention and observe that people would always show you who they really are. His business wasn’t just his job—it was his passion. His phone was never silent, and the work never really ended, but he loved every minute of it. The men who worked for him weren’t just employees; they were family. Brandon, Rhett, and Donnie he loved yall tremendously. Charlie he loved starting your day off by annoying you and loved nothing more than visiting you at Notoco. Thank you for all you did for him and my family. It won’t ever be forgotten.

He always told me he was building everything for us and constantly tried to prepare me for this day. But I always blew it off because to me my dad would always be around. Looking back he knew he was really sick, but he would downplay it to me so I wouldn’t worry or to worry anyone else. He always said I worry too much about everyone. I also would usually cut him off because I was the independent, strong woman who insisted I didn’t need anything from my dad. Looking back now, I understand what he meant. It was never about giving us things. It was about giving us security, opportunity, making sure we were prepared for a life without him, and an overall better life.

I watched his world fall apart, and somehow, he still raised my little brother the best way he knew how. At 36 years old, I finally realized my dad was only human. He wasn’t perfect, but he loved us the best way he knew how. One thing was always certain—he made sure we were okay and that we never went without.

The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized how much I’ve become him. We share the same work ethic, the same determination, the same sense of humor, and the same way of looking at life. Sometimes it drove me crazy how alike we were, but today I’d give anything for one more conversation.

There was only one man who could be sitting in the ICU, moments before having a breathing tube pulled from his throat, and still pretend to be dead just to make everyone laugh—and that was my dad. His sense of humor never left him.

People loved him. They loved the way he could talk you into just about anything or about life. They loved that a cup of coffee was never out of reach—even if it was midnight. And if you ever came to his house, you never left empty-handed. Whether it was food, a story, a laugh, or advice, something random he pawned off he always had something to give.

Dad, I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I’ll be there for my little brother the way you asked me to be. I’ll love him, guide him, protect him, and remind him every day how much his dad loved him. I’ll do everything in my power to carry out your final wishes and honor the life you worked so hard to build. It won’t ever be the same without you, but I hope to make you proud by carrying your legacy forward. You loved your family fiercely.

Thank you for fighting as hard as you did. Even though I sat in the ICU more to last me a lifetime, know more nurses by name than most people, been to every rehab, hospice, and managed every step of your care I wouldn’t change it. I learned humility. I learned selflessness. I learned what it is to truly abandon your own wants and needs to help someone else in need. I’d fight the fight all over again if it meant a few more years and you watching Dale grow up. It’s a different kind of pain watching someone you love slowly fading away and dying slowly. I think watching it took a piece of me with you. I know in your final days you only drank that last strawberry protein shake because I gave it to you. The last thing you ever ate or drank. I know I pushed you the last 8 months to get better and I know you did it for Dale and I only. I’m so grateful I did though. Thank you for every sacrifice you made that I didn’t understand until I was older. Thank you for teaching me what hard work, resilience, and determination look like. I hope you knew just how proud I was to be your daughter even though when people asked if I was yours I often rolled my eyes and asked why first.

I’ll miss you every day, but I know your fight is over, your lungs can finally rest, and you are finally home. I hope I make you proud and you keep watch over us, because nothing got past you. Love you Padre.