William Michael “Mike” Foster, 81, of Talla Bena, Louisiana, was born September 8, 1944, in Tallulah, Louisiana, to Horace Milton and Lola Beatrice (Arnold) Foster. He died at St. Dominic’s Hospital in Jackson, Mississippi, on January 29, 2026.
Mike grew up on a homestead in Talla Bena, LA, where he returned for the last 50 years of his life. At his core, he was a long-haired, groovy hippie grown from a no-nonsense, crew-cut football player.
Horace and Lola raised their children with strong moral codes and work ethics. Mike was still in high school when his father died, but found refuge on the football field and emerged as a standout noseguard on the Tallulah High Trojans, a state champion football team.
After high school, Mike moved to New Orleans to work at Avondale Shipyard with his brother Charlie. A rigging accident ended his shipyard career but led him to meet Nancy Miller, the nurse who would later become the mother of his children. Their son, Mike Jr., was born in 1965, followed by Jamie in 1969.
Mike and Nancy parted ways in 1972. He later met and married Debbie Kent, whom he would remain committed to for 53 years until his last day on Earth. Together, they built a peaceful home that hundreds of people saw as a safe haven. On the Talla Bena farm, they raised children and grandchildren, tended chickens and gardens, and made their 60’s vision of peace and love a reality by “turning on, tuning in, and dropping out.”
From the day they met, Mike and Debbie Foster remained virtually inseparable, building a partnership more often found in love stories than in real life. Mike took his role as a father seriously, and his sons, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren carry his spirit with them.
Mike had an uncanny gift for turning strangers into old friends, whether in a grocery store line or alongside a broken-down Volkswagen on the side of the road. As a self-employed carpenter, Mike cultivated a small, loyal group of clients throughout northeast Louisiana. His patrons valued his and Debbie’s company as much as his skill, many becoming lifelong friends.
At the family farm in Talla Bena, Mike collaborated with his constellations of friends and family to host Pigfest: a music festival, potluck, and cochon de lait in the pasture. The idea was inspired by an old party invitation Mike discovered: evidence of a nearly identical gathering held on that same land shortly after the Civil War.
Rain or cold never stopped the festival. For 28 consecutive years, friends from near and far made their pilgrimage to share food, stories, and sit on hay bales listening to music into the wee hours of the morning. In a land marked by bitter differences, Mike created a space defined by generosity, belonging, and shared humanity. Miracles occurred…you just had to be there.
Society often disappointed Mike, but he never lost sight of the value in each individual: young or old, rich or poor, Black, Brown or White. He spoke to everyone. Those fortunate enough to know him loved his jokes, deep empathy, and wide-ranging knowledge of a true Renaissance man. Though Mike wasn’t religious, he was spiritual, and he uncovered magic and the beauty of nature where others saw mundanity, or didn’t see at all. He taught his children the importance of honesty, often reminding them that “the truth only hurts when it should.”
Medical issues in the last few years bore Mike down, but thanks to the loving care of Debbie and his family, he remained physically and mentally present well into his senior years.
Mike Jr. and Jamie now live in the Greater New Orleans area, but both sons and their families have maintained strong ties to their ancestral home.
Mike was preceded in death by his parents and his siblings, Charlie Foster and Carolyn Fulton (Foster), and is survived by his sons, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and a wealth of admiring family and friends.
Rarely does the common man get the chance to leave a legacy. However, Big Mike was a rare and uncommon man. Everyone who knew him will miss his joy, his perspective, and his radiating, unconditional love.
In lieu of a public memorial, the family will gather with a small group of close family and friends at the farm. If you would like to honor Mike, please listen to the birds singing, love your neighbor, and talk by the fire until it flickers out.
