Always by his side, helping him to reach the masses, to produce his show, and to develop his news network (now carried on some 1,300 stations) was his beautiful wife, Mary. Mary is one of those people who is kind and gentle ? just as pretty on the inside as she is on the outside. Married for 49 years, Marlin and Mary shared a goal to reach the nation for good ? and they worked together like magic.
Marlin and Mary also inspired their children to help flood the nation with truth. During the mid 1980s, the Maddoux family held rallies in huge auditoriums across the country bringing together local folks who were drinking from this same life-giving river called, "Point of View." My husband and I were among several thousand who attended one such uplifting event in Houston so long ago.
For over 30 years, listeners have been blessed by the influence of Marlin Maddoux and his wonderful family. On Thursday, March 4, Marlin's passionate, powerful voice for truth passed from this world into the next.
But his words of love, and accountability, and challenge still float through the wind like the moist vapor rising from a mighty falling river. You see, Marlin didn't build "Point of View" and USA Radio Network to carry his voice ? he built them to carry the truth.
Years ago, he tapped incredible talent to make sure the river would flow long after his death. He assembled an amazing team that delivers outstanding news updates 24 hours a day to listeners around the world. And Marlin's inspiring and brilliant "Point of View" co-hosts ? Penna Dexter and Kerby Anderson ? will continue to bring the life-giving liquids to the proverbial deserts of those thirsting for truth in cities and towns across the nation.
I last saw Marlin just weeks ago when he came to visit me at the Heritage Foundation. We enthusiastically discussed how, during his travels to D.C., he would broadcast from the new Heritage radio studios I'm privileged to manage. I had the opportunity to thank him ? once again ? for reaching me so very long ago in the midst of my own drought. He smiled that humble, warm smile and hugged me goodbye. As he stepped outside to catch a cab, I noticed it was lightly raining, and offered him an umbrella. He jovially waved me off, saying he didn't mind a little water. How fitting.