James Paul Marcotte

James P. Marcotte left our world on February 16, 2026, in Los Angeles, California, at the age of 63.
James Paul Marcotte was born on March 22, 1962, in Lewiston, Maine. Although Lewiston was a mill town in decline, it provided an ideal childhood for James and his younger brother, Scott, filled with woods to explore, nearby relatives, and the solid consistency of the Catholic Church every Sunday. His mother, Jean Begley Marcotte, and his father, Paul George Marcotte, both worked full-time, imparting in James a strong work ethic that never left him. When James was 12, the family sought to escape the long Maine winters and moved to Florida, where his parents had first met decades earlier. Their time in the Sunshine State was fleeting; Florida did not feel right. An alligator spotted in the backyard may have played a role in that decision. After a year in North Carolina also failed to feel like home, Jean and Paul asked James if he would mind moving to California to be near Jean’s sister. James fully approved of the idea and never wanted to live anywhere else again.
By the time they moved to the central coast town of San Luis Obispo, 16-year-old James had attended six secondary schools. Starting over and making friends was the norm for him, and he quickly found his people. He joined the wrestling team and was active in his high school’s musical theater. School curriculum was often less of a focus than his extracurriculars, and he was always employed. One of his favorite jobs was working as a dishwasher at the fabled Madonna Inn, a local landmark that was the center of San Luis Obispo power, politics, and lore.
After high school, James enrolled in nearby Cuesta Community College, where he sang with a jazz vocal ensemble. A highlight of his years there was traveling to Switzerland to perform at the famed Montreux Jazz Festival. He completed his college experience at the University of California, Irvine, with a degree in Art History and a minor in Orange County coastal living, characterized by beaches and boat rides. During his college summers, James slung on a backpack and traveled throughout Europe. Somewhere in this era, he shed the diminutive “Jamie” used by family and friends and became James—a name befitting a man who would spend hours in the encyclopedic collections of the world’s great museums, immersing himself in the visual arts, from the Renaissance and Baroque to contemporary painting and sculpture. Those were days of freedom and spontaneity, of crashing in youth hostels in Germany and meeting fellow travelers before heading to Italy. He felt so free that one summer he neglected to call his parents for weeks. Calls were eventually made to their California Senator’s office, who in turn notified the U.S. State Department. James, meanwhile, was likely in a sidewalk cafe chatting up young Swedish ladies he’d met along the way. He did, eventually, call his mother.
Always an entrepreneur, James and a friend operated an office cleaning business in San Luis Obispo during his time at Cuesta College. This enterprise was eventually taken over by his parents and brother, providing the family a comfortable living for the next 30 years. However, James’ future lay in Southern California and the world of coffee. Before a certain ubiquitous brand from Seattle put a coffee shop on every corner, James and his friend Sol founded a roastery and cafe named City Bean near the UCLA campus. There, James roasted beans, prepared drinks, and developed a loyal following. Customers came for the coffee and stayed for the welcoming smiles and interesting conversation. James made at least one lifelong friend there, working long hours and honing his palate to perfectly roast coffee varietals from across the globe.
Deciding that the 24/7 retail life was not for him, he sampled other aspects of the industry, working in sales for Swiss Water Decaf and running his own firm, Madera, buying and selling containers of green coffee from origin. During this time, he met his future wife and co-conspirator, Sarah Thompson, at a party. She imagined his exotic life of commodity deals made in seven languages across three continents; a folding chair, a flip phone, and a desk in Culver City was closer to the reality, but she was hooked anyway. In Sarah, he met a science museum educator who brought him on his first and only scorpion-collecting expedition in the California desert. Over time, he came to appreciate (and gently relocate) the tiny creatures that wandered through the house, though he never quite embraced things with eight legs.
After five years with Cirqua Inc., convincing coffee shops that specialized water filtration was essential, the final stop in his coffee odyssey was Intelligentsia Coffee. Tasked with introducing the brand to Southern California and later the entire West Coast, James threw himself into the role. He tirelessly navigated the California freeway system, entering shops and restaurants through the back door to find his way to the kitchen. He could operate any espresso machine, pour a perfect latte, and offer roasting notes with the sophistication of a sommelier. He often bought baked goods from his customers, and in 2007, when Sarah was pregnant with their daughter, Rowan, she did not object to the pastry boxes arriving daily. James worked for Intelligentsia until his retirement in 2019.
Throughout his life, James forged deep, decades-long friendships. He was impossible to forget, small in stature but large in personality. In an impersonal city like Los Angeles, he befriended neighbors and grocery clerks, whom he always thanked by name. His interests were wide-ranging, from world music and jazz to classical guitar. He maintained an extensive vinyl collection, using mysterious equipment stacked under the turntable to bring out the rich nuances of every record. He also enjoyed golf, spending many Sundays and Tuesdays at his local nine-hole course, enjoying the banter and camaraderie on the green.
James was a deeply engaged father to Rowan, baking cakes, teaching her to ride a bike and drive, and sharing his joy of travel. He was a constant presence at Girl Scout meetings, school drop-offs, and sleepovers. In later years, his passion for national politics likely influenced her decision to study political science at George Washington University. His other expert skills included grilling, hosting dinner parties, whiskey tasting, fitting more dishes into a dishwasher than Sarah thought possible, and the rare art of folding fitted sheets.
In 2019, James was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. He received a life-saving lung transplant in 2020 at UCLA Medical Center. He regained his strength and, for several years, lived a vibrant life of international travel, hiking, and golfing. However, transplanted lungs are vulnerable, and he eventually succumbed to multiple infections. His family and friends were blessed with six more years of James because an organ donor made the ultimate gift, and they are forever grateful to that anonymous person. James touched the world through his gregarious personality, his generosity, and his open, loving heart.
He is survived by his wife, Sarah Marcotte; his daughter, Rowan Jean Marcotte; and his brother and sister-in-law, Scott and Maria Marcotte.