David Lewis Webb
April 19, 1949 – August 6, 2025
David Lewis Webb passed away on August 6, 2025, surrounded by loved ones. He was born on April 19, 1949, the son of Arlow and Jeanne Webb, and was one of four children.
To his daughters, he was “Pops.” Growing up with Pops was an adventure — detours down the back roads of small towns, always searching for cool stuff: a hidden porcelain sign, an old gas pump, vintage petrol memorabilia, or, in his early days, Cadillacs — back when he would ask his daughters to empty their pockets and together strike a deal on a cool find. Not many kids had the privilege of riding around in a ’70s Cadillac limousine painted purple, or a ’60s Cadillac ambulance similar to the Ghostbusters Ectomobile. His daughters feel very lucky to have had such unique experiences in their youth.
David was a dynamic individual with a unique sense of humor and a knack for storytelling. He could effortlessly captivate an audience with his humorous anecdotes or fascinating historical narratives. His nomadic, adventurous, and active lifestyle provided him with a wealth of stories to share, and his witty, well-timed one-liners were sure to keep people roaring with laughter. He was one of the funniest people you could ever meet, and his laugh was contagious — always a character, even in the way he dressed, describing his own style as that of a “disheveled pimp.”
If you were a friend of David’s, you might have known him from way back — he kept in touch with friends from grade school in Portland, where he grew up. Maybe you crossed paths with him on Haight-Ashbury during his hippy years, at one of the many swap meets he attended, at Casa Verde in La Ventana, Baja California Sur — the beachside resort he built from the ground up — maybe at a blues festival; the possibilities are nearly endless since he travelled the world. In Pomeroy, WA, people often tracked him down after spotting his roadside giants — the Uniroyal Gal and the Rainbow Man — or after reading about him in the Pomeroy Museum, or just wondering who lived in the amazing art deco building with all the cool stuff. More recently, his life’s work was also featured in The Seattle Times. However you knew him, chances are he picked you up when you were down. Many people have shared how, when he noticed someone struggling, David reached out with a helping hand, a sharp wit, and an encouraging presence.
David had a love for the open road, which can be traced back to his childhood, riding with his parents and three sisters — Linda, Bonnie, and Carol — from Portland to visit family in Ogden, Utah. Those trips, crammed into a hot old Plymouth with scratchy wool seats, became cherished memories, made more bearable with the promise of a hotel with a pool along the way.
As he grew, David became the kind of person who could build just about anything, fix cars, and figure out whatever needed doing. His creativity and resourcefulness were every bit as much a part of him as his love for collecting treasures.
In his younger years, he was a pile buck by trade, but if you asked him what he did for a living, he’d tell you he was a “hunter-gatherer.” David had a one-of-a-kind eye for the extraordinary. He could sniff out cool finds like no one else. In his later years, many of those road trips were shared with his good friend Brian Austin, who often rode shotgun on his hunting-and-gathering adventures.
His greatest masterpiece was the Lost Highway Museum — a lifetime of hunting, gathering, saving, and preserving pieces of Americana. Though unfinished and never opened to the public, the Lost Highway Museum will remain a testament to his creativity, where he displayed what he jokingly referred to as his “inferior decorating skills” and his use of “Funk Shui.”
David will be deeply missed by his daughters and loved ones: Emily Webb (aka Schmo) and Jamie Jones; Nellie Webb-Solari (aka Nudge) and Justin Solari (whom David proudly nicknamed “JustOne Salami”); Eva Webb-Herres (Twing 1) and Todd Herres; Sophie Webb (Twing 2); and Molly Belle Webb, also known as “Belzer” or “Baby Animal,” who, as the youngest, often went on adventures with her Pops, which he dubbed “Large Bud Day.” He will also be dearly missed by his good friend Brian Austin, whom he called a brother, and by the mother of his daughters, Lynn Webb.
Though he always claimed he was “too young to be a grandpa,” he leaves behind a whole crew of grandchildren who adored him: Donnie, Madeline, and Victoria Webb; Zane, Azalea, and Blaze Webb-Solari; Olivia Strouble; Stella Dempsey; Hazel Herres; and Devan, Liam, and Finn Regan. He also lived to see the next generation begin, with great-grandchildren Baby Webb and Monte Martinez Solari.
David also had two beloved Chihuahuas, Zita and Sissy Webb, his faithful companions who rarely left his side and who preceded him in death. And more recently, two more Chihuahuas, Honey Bunny and Ace, who were lovingly adopted by his daughter Belzer.
David leaves behind an immense void that can never be filled, along with a lifetime of stories, laughter, friendship, love, and Americana. His legacy lives on not only through his family but also through every person he lifted up, every nickname he gave, and every cool find he saved along the way.