Doug Maddox and the Masters of Harmony: The Early Years

Doug became a part of the MOH in January 1988, just weeks after Dr. Greg Lyne had assumed the position of music director of the then-Foothill Cities Chapter. At the time I was the newly installed music vice president and, having known Doug since at least 1975 (when we sang together at Harmony College), I immediately turned to him for guidance on a host of issues.
Doug had been born and raised in Southern California and had directed Pasadena’s Crown City Chorus in the mid-1970s, but his work later took him to Detroit and then on to Dallas, where in the mid-1980s he had won a gold medal with the famed Vocal Majority. For our fledgling “new” MOH, his recent experience with the VM seemed like an obvious source of both inspiration and information.
One of the major challenges facing the Masters in 1988 was that many of the new members joining the chorus had previously sung with other chapters throughout Southern California. While in some ways this provided the MOH with a wealth of experienced people, it also created seriously divergent views about how things should be run and done. Indeed, at one early point, there were no less than 10 men on the music committee who had previously served as the music director in other chapters. As committee chairman, it often seemed as if I had been given the unenviable task of “herding cats!”
Seeking help, I naturally turned to Doug, asking how the VM did things and what we could learn from that great organization. While Doug provided extremely valuable information about the VM’s internal operations, he also, very wisely, pointed out that we should not try to emulate the VM in terms of its organization—not because it was not good (as obviously it was), but because we were simply different. He said that we in SoCal lived in a much different social environment than the Texans, and we also had a very different director. Doug felt we needed to build a chorus in our own image, not that of another chapter.
But, he added, the VM did have one thing that we definitely should emulate: the creation of a “chorus culture.” By that, he meant a set of common ideals, beliefs, and a way of doing things so ingrained that, when a new member joined the MOH, there would be an immediate recognition that “this is just the way things are done here.” The VM had such a culture, and Doug said we needed to develop one too, but consistent with who we actually were and what we aspired to be. This profound insight was the catalyst that led to the development of the numerous written policies and procedures that the MOH has today, as well as to several unwritten but unique MOH traditions, such as “The Walk” at retreats.
Doug never served on the board of directors, nor did he wish to do so, but for several of the early years, he attended almost all board meetings. Thus, he was well acquainted with the “political” issues going on in the chapter, but on those he preferred to work quietly in the background, simply giving sage advice.
Another great influence Doug had early on involved the dissemination of information. In the early 1990s, the chapter began publication of what was first known as the “Weekly Bulletin” (later renamed the MasterLink), then a double-sided sheet containing a list of upcoming events, chapter and Society news, logistical information, a little gossip, and some miscellaneous tidbits called “Quickies.” Every week the sheets were printed out and a copy placed into each member’s “mailbox”—an individual hanging folder/suspension file rack set up by the chapter near the rehearsal hall entrance. (As hard as it may be to believe, particularly for the younger generation, there actually was a time when email for the public did not exist!)
While during the first half of the 1990s I was the author of this publication, what is not widely known is that each week, generally on Monday afternoon, I would fax to Doug at his office (yes, fax; we used that technology back then) a copy of what I had written for the week. Shortly thereafter, one of us would phone the other, and it was not uncommon for our calls to last for hours.
We discussed every little thing on the two sides of the page, often spending 10 minutes or more arguing over the linguistic implications of a comma in a particular sentence! In so doing, we amused ourselves to no end (though perhaps not so to our respective bosses) as we debated word choice, nuance, humor, and the appropriateness of double entendres, frequently wondering who in the chorus would get the joke (“Rob Menaker, probably”).
The bulletin admonished, urged, encouraged and informed, but tried to do so in a way that was both serious and fun. While I may have gotten the credit for writing the bulletin in those early years, the truth is that it was Doug Maddox who always stood over my shoulder, ceaselessly giving wise counsel on what should and should not be said. It was but another of the many ways in which Doug showed us all what it meant to be a Master of Harmony. As President Ron Andreas wrote in his email message of July 19, 2014, “A true legend has passed from our ranks, but the dream is carried on.”



