You know, I recently reread the story of Colonel Sanders and realized that it’s much crazier than I thought before.

The guy was born in 1890 in Indiana, and his childhood was just a nightmare. His father died when he was 6 years old, and little Sanders had to cook food and take care of his younger brothers and sisters. In 7th grade, he dropped out of school altogether. Then came a string of jobs — farm work, streetcar, railroad, army, insurance. Everywhere he faced layoffs and disappointment.

Here’s what’s interesting: at 40 years old, Colonel Sanders finally found something he liked. At a gas station, he started cooking fried chicken for travelers. People loved it. For the first time in his life, he felt he could offer something to the world.

But then — boom. At 65, a new highway diverted traffic away from his restaurant. The business died. All he had left was $105 in pension.

Most people would have just given up here. But Colonel Sanders was not like that. He loaded his car, took his fried chicken recipe, and started going from restaurant to restaurant. He offered his idea. Slept in his car. Knocked on doors.

He was rejected 1,009 times. A thousand times people said no. And on the 1,010th attempt, one restaurant agreed. That was the moment everything changed. The birth of KFC.

By age 70, KFC was everywhere in America. In 1964, Colonel Sanders sold the company for $2 million (about $20 million in today’s money). Today, KFC operates in 145 countries, with over 25,000 outlets.

What amazes me about this story? Colonel Sanders wasn’t a genius. He wasn’t a lucky guy either. He simply refused to give up at the moment everyone around him would have.

If a person who started with zero at age 65 could create a global empire, what does that say about us? About our excuses? About how early we give up?

When I feel like quitting something, I remember Colonel Sanders. His 1,009 rejections. His car where he slept. His persistence.