Christine Ann Kemp Coates, 74, of Gulfport Ms passed away peacefully at her home on August 13th, 2026 surrounded by her children and family. She was a loved mother, grandmother, great~ grandmother and a friend to many. She will be missed and never forgotten. Christine was born at Percy Jones Army Hospital in Battle Creek MI on August 17th, 1951 to Harry and Joyce Kemp. 

She loved to travel, work, her dogs, husband, kids and family. Her upmost passion was her work ( probably the place where you’d hear her talk the most about her kids) where her God ~given role as a waitress lead her to over 35 yrs of serving, loving, laughing and sharing her faith with people. She just a way with them. An indescribable charm with a distinct laugh that would be heard in any gathering and will be deeply missed. 

Christine is survived by her son George Mindler (Jennifer) of Trussville, Al; Grandchildren; Shelby McAnnally (Blake) great grandchildren; Rylee Froman, Easton and Reece McAnnally. Madison and McKenzi Mindler; her son George Davis (Courtney) of Gulfport, Ms, Chloe, Nehemiah and Zander Davis; her son Robert Davis of Springfield La; her grandchildren; Jasmine Davis, Jordan Davis; her great grandchildren; Skylar Savoie, Morris Giroir, Robert Davis; her daughter Lindsey Necaise (Carl) of Gulfport,Ms; her grandchildren, Jessie Johnson (Jordan) of Long Beach, Ms; her great grandchildren; Khloe and Parker Johnson; Carl Necaise (Tiffany) of Biloxi, Ms; her great grandchildren; Jesse Montgomery, Carlie Necaise; Triston White, Allie Necaise; her daughter Dessa Rae Romager (Eddie) of Hollins, Al; grandchildren; Tiffani Martin (Austin) of Cullman, Al; great grandchild; Aspen Rae Martin; her son Blake Coates (Jamie) of Calera,Al; grandchildren; Ellie Brambilla and Hunter Coates; her grandchildren; Joshua and Caleb Coates from her late Son, Denny Coates (Kendra) from Hammond,La; Cherry Coates from La; her sisters; Jan Wilson Ansel (John); her nephews; Chuck Standridge, Alan Wilson (Andrea); her nephew; Jimmy Hanaway, her nieces; Tracy Moran (Rodney), Tammy Wagnon (Malvin) , Jenny Moran (Chris) from her late sister Pam Patterson; her sister Francine (Peaches) Martinez, her nephew Andrew and Jack, niece Nicole; from her late brother, Marty Kemp; her niece; Chasity and her nephew Anthony Kemp, their mother; Lynn Wallace. She was preceded in death by her husband of over 30 years, Greg Coates; her son, Denny Coates; her brother, Marty Kemp; her sister, Pam Patterson; her niece, Tina Weaver; and many other loved ones. A celebration of Christine’s life will be held at her grandsons (Carl Necaise) home in Biloxi, Ms. on September 26th, 2026. The family kindly invites you to share a memory, message, or condolences in the online guestbook. Your words will become a treasured keepsake for the family, and we ask that entries be made at your earliest convenience so the guestbook may be preserved (by being printed out) in her memory. 

Trinity Funeral Services is honored to serve the Coates family and ask that you keep them in your thoughts and prayers in the days to come.

In Loving Memory of Christine Ann Kemp Coates

Today, we gather to remember and celebrate the life of Christine Ann Coates, formerly Christine Ann Kemp.

Christine was born on August 17, 1951, in Battle Creek, Michigan, to Harry Upson Kemp Jr. and Joyce Lee Moore. Throughout her life, she was many things to many people: daughter, mother, wife, grandmother, friend, coworker, and a person who was never afraid to be exactly who she was.

Christine was not the kind of person who simply walked into a room and quietly blended in. She had an outgoing personality, a sharp sense of humor, and a way of making her presence known. Rather than saying she "lit up a room," it might be more accurate to say that Christine brought the party—and probably a few jokes with her.

She loved to laugh. Possibly even a passion for it. She loved to joke with people. And if you knew Christine well, you probably have at least one story about something she said or did that still make you laugh today, (just ask the one about the time she took him to a drug house in Puerto Rico - good times).

When Christine was younger, she loved to travel and experience new places. She had an adventurous side and enjoyed seeing what was beyond the familiar. Over the years, she collected experiences, stories, and memories that became part of the person she was.

Christine also spent much of her life working at the OG: Waffle House, a job she truly loved. It wasn't simply a place where she worked. It was a place where she met people, built friendships, shared laughs, and became part of the lives of so many others. Anyone who has ever worked alongside Christine or crossed paths with her there knows that she had a way of making an impression. She met many good people throughout those years, and those relationships were an important part of her life.

And then there were her dogs.

Christine loved her dogs fiercely. In fact, if you asked her to choose between a dog and just about any person on the planet, there is a pretty good chance the dog was going to win. Her love for them was unquestionable, and anyone who knew Christine knew just how much those animals meant to her.

Christine was also a complicated person—in the best sense of the word. She could be incredibly honest and would often tell you exactly what she thought. At the same time, she could keep a great deal to herself, and sometimes she was not the easiest person to figure out.

But Christine was never someone who lived her life trying to fit into someone else's expectations.

She was her own person.

She did things on her own terms. She said what she wanted to say, kept what she wanted to keep, and lived according to her own sense of who she was. Sometimes that honesty or independence may have been difficult for others to understand, and sometimes she probably said things that weren't exactly what people wanted to hear.

But Christine was unapologetically Christine.

And that is part of what made her one-of-a-kind.

She wasn't trying to be perfect. She wasn't trying to please everyone. She was simply herself—and there is something admirable about a person who has the courage to live that way.

Christine leaves behind her children George Mindler, George Davis, Bobby Davis, Lindsey Necaise, Dessa Romager, Blake Coates, Cherry Coates and her late son Denny Coates, as well as countless other family members, friends, coworkers, and people whose lives she touched along the way.

And today, there is also something comforting to remember.

Christine is now reunited with her husband, Greg, whom she missed deeply over the years. Whatever those years apart may have held, we can take comfort in imagining that she is no longer missing him—that they have found each other again.

Christine's life was filled with laughter, travel, work, friendships, family, dogs, stories, and a personality that could never be mistaken for anyone else's.

And perhaps that is the greatest way to remember her:

Not as someone who was perfect, but as someone who was real.

Someone who made you laugh.

Someone who could surprise you.

Someone who might tell you exactly what she thought—or leave you wondering what was going on in her mind.

Someone who loved deeply, even when she didn't always show it in conventional ways.

Someone who did things her own way. Loved on her own terms.

And someone whose absence will be noticed because Christine was never the kind of person who went unnoticed.

Christine was one of a kind that battled depression and anxiety, as we all know. We all also know how that can make one act on odd behavior at times and maybe just maybe therein lies the answer to her many mysteries.

May we remember her not only with sadness, but with the laughter she would have appreciated, the stories she gave us ( to believe or not to believe), and the memories we’re left with that will continue to make us smile. Perhaps that memory at the Waffle House, locked arms and a leaned in head to the shoulder, a sense of security; a many long rides in the car listening to music; a ladies luncheon; a back rub till you fell asleep; perhaps that one memory that’s too hard to share or the many memories of her picking on you. These sweet memories doesn’t mean there weren’t hard times, it just means we’ll remember those sweeter ones more now.

And she will be missed and not forgotten.

At the request of Mom herself, respectively, continue on with picking on her, as we all have, and as she did Nanny.