In this photo from May 22, 2007, religious broadcaster Pat Robertson arrives for the funeral of the Rev. Jerry Falwell at Thomas Road Baptist Church in Lynchburg, Virginia. (Mario Tama/Getty Images/TNS)

Rev. Pat Robertson was one of a kind, a towering figure in American life. His death on Thursday at age 93 will elicit an outpouring of remembrance that is likely to rival that of any world leader.

There were other young men who followed their faith into a lifelong career, and there are plenty of preachers who amplified their message using the most advanced media available.

There are people who have founded institutions of higher education based on their principles and beliefs, recognizing the value and importance of guiding the next generation of leaders.

There are many successful businessmen who oversee sprawling and impressive portfolios, successfully exploring and developing new areas of growth while employing scores of people and enjoying decades of sustained prosperity.

There are those who are able to utilize all of that influence in the halls of government, becoming a trusted confidant and friend to some of the most important and powerful people in the world.

Though not without his controversies, Robertson was all of these things and much more, and that he pursued all of those dreams from Virginia Beach was undoubtedly a benefit to the city, the region and the commonwealth.

Born in Lexington in 1930, Robertson was guided by the religious faith of his mother and the political acumen of his father, Absalom Willis Robertson, who served Virginia in the U.S. House and Senate following two terms in the Virginia Senate. The younger Robertson graduated from Washington and Lee University and served in the Marines before graduating from Yale Law School.

He would speak frequently about a period of gambling, drinking and women that preceded his devotion to a fundamental Christianity that would become his vocation, career and legacy. Robertson moved his family to Portsmouth, was ordained as a Baptist minister and purchased a television station for only $37,000.

In doing so, he planted the seeds for his Christian Broadcasting Network empire. Short of money in 1966, he called on 700 supporters to donate $10 a month to help — the launch of “The 700 Club,” that would be CBN’s signature program and catapulted Robertson into the national and international spotlight.

While other preachers had used radio and television to broaden the reach of their message, Robertson was the first to recognize the promise of utilizing satellite and cable to raise CBN’s profile. The network paired religious broadcasting with entertainment and news, attracting a devoted audience and expanding Robertson’s influence.

A foray into politics followed, including an unsuccessful bid for the GOP presidential nomination in 1988. However his most effective effort to shape American political discourse came through the Christian Coalition, which he founded. The organization wedded Christian beliefs with conservative policies which still shapes the Republican Party today.

Robertson’s many ventures — from television to books and movies, to Regent University, launched with a goal of “training Christian leaders to change the world” — were centered in Virginia Beach, where Robertson made his home. CBN and Regent alone employ hundreds of area residents and pump millions into the local and regional economies annually.

It’s impossible to discuss Robertson’s life without mentioning his missteps. He infamously agreed when Rev. Jerry Falwell, appearing on The 700 Club, blamed the 2001 terrorist attacks on abortion, feminism and homosexuality, and later claimed Hurricane Katrina and the 2011 earthquake in Haiti as punishment for turning away from God.

Those statements were offensive and deeply hurtful, and they cost Robertson some of his power as once-friendly politicians distanced themselves from him. But his influence, though diminished, never waned and Republicans, most recently former President Donald Trump, sought his counsel and support.

As former Gov. Bob McDonnell, a graduate of Regent Law School, said in a Thursday statement, “For those who knew him and called him a friend, his love for helping and healing the hearts of people was authentic. … he was able to discern God’s providence in the world unlike anyone else I have known.”