Lester Talmadge Weddle

Lester Talmadge Weddle, 69, passed away on October 5, 2026. Born June 14, 1957 to Talmadge “Tap” and Edna Weddle, Lester was born and raised in Floyd County, Virginia.

Though his Army career took him far from home over the years, Floyd County was always home, and it was where he returned and made his life.

Lester was preceded in death by his parents, Talmadge Thomas “Tap” Weddle and Edna Adline Keith Weddle; his brother, Thomas “Dozer” Weddle; and his sister, Diana Weddle Burton. 

He is survived by his daughters, Corey Sparr and Jes Saylor; son-in-law, Tim Saylor; grandchildren, Annika Saylor, Aisling Counts, Neriah Counts, Grayson Saylor, Mary Sparr and Max Sparr; and his special friend, Mary Lu Hudgins.

Those are the facts of Lester’s life. They don’t begin to tell you who he was. Born on Flag Day, it seems fitting that Lester would grow up to become a man so deeply devoted to his country. He proudly made a career of the United States Army, retiring honorably in 1994 as a Sergeant First Class after nearly 19 years of active-duty service, including more than six years overseas. For Lester, being a soldier was never simply a job or something he left behind when he retired. It remained an enduring part of who he was. He was fiercely proud of his service, of the Army and of the country he served.

Retirement didn’t exactly slow Lester down. As he liked to joke, “I used to be tired, now I’m re-tired,” though he also said retirement eventually got too boring, so he went back to work, helping with floral deliveries and at Dulaney’s Greenhouse, along with hosting special events at Dogtown Pizza. 

Over the years, the career soldier happily embraced his inner hippie, growing his hair long and wearing it in a ponytail or braid. Colorblind throughout his life, Lester joked that camouflage was his favorite color because it was the one thing he could always be sure matched.

Lester was deeply proud of being a soldier, but music was how he moved through the world. 

A lifelong musician, he could pick up nearly anything with strings and find his way into a song.

Left-handed and entirely undeterred by a world full of right-handed guitars, he taught himself to play by simply turning one upside down. He sang, performed with countless bands, hosted open mic and karaoke nights, and could walk into a room full of musicians and belong there. To his daughters, he was something of a rock star. Over the years, he became a fixture of the music scene throughout Floyd, but his place in that community went far beyond the stage. He was a teacher, a friend, a big brother and, to some, a father.

An impactful part of every musical scene in Floyd, if there was music playing somewhere nearby, chances were good Lester would find his way to it. He never missed the Galax Old Fiddlers Convention and loved the Friday and Saturday night jamborees shared with longtime friends and bandmates. Guitars, drums, microphones and amps were rarely far away, and neither was Lester. 

He brought the same energy to open mics, local stages and informal gatherings, always ready to play another song or welcome someone else into the music.

Lester never met a stranger, and he never seemed to meet an audience he couldn’t entertain.

Sometimes that audience was a room full of musicians. Sometimes it was family listening to a story they already heard a hundred times and laughing anyway because he was telling it again. And sometimes it was his grandchildren, watching Papa play his guitar and falling for one of his favorite tricks: asking if they wanted to hear him play it backwards. When they inevitably said yes, he would stand up, turn around and play the song again.

Becoming “Papa” was one of Lester’s great joys. The name had belonged to his own father before him, and when Lester became a grandfather, he proudly carried it into the next generation. He treasured pictures and stories of his grandchildren, proudly shared their accomplishments, and, naturally, brought his guitar along to every visit so music could be part of their memories with him, too.

Mary Lu chose American Pie to mark Lester’s passing, a fitting song for the loss of a man whose life was so filled with music. But October 5, 2026, wasn’t the day the music died. Lester had spent his whole life making sure it wouldn’t. He shared it with his daughters and grandchildren, with friends and
bandmates, with crowded rooms and anyone willing to pick up an instrument and play alongside him. 

He spent a lifetime giving pieces of the music away. By the time he left us, he made damn sure the music wasn’t going anywhere.

A memorial service celebrating Lester’s life will be held Saturday, October 10, at 1:00 p.m. at the Moose Lodge in Floyd, Virginia.