In this informal interview, host SPEAKER A probes Don Miller about his entrepreneurial philosophy, personal life, and formative experiences. Miller explains that an entrepreneur’s primary role is to create value by building "businesses in a box" that enable others to make money, rather than focusing on doing the work themselves. He shares anecdotes about his 50‑year‑old Jeep, family Sunday routines, and his wife’s spirited driving. A pivotal moment comes when Miller recounts a near‑death heart diagnosis that forced him to reassess his priorities, shifting from paper‑stated values of family to truly being present with his loved ones. He also tells a nostalgic story about a youth‑group letter he wrote at 16, predicting he would live in Oregon, become a New York Times bestseller, and be a millionaire by 35—a vision that later resurfaced when his former classmate Sandy Waggett found the letter. Throughout, Miller’s tone is conversational and reflective, emphasizing the importance of creating opportunities for others, aligning actions with core values, and the power of early vision‑casting.
Chapters
Oh, we didn't think you for a country guy.
It's rubbed off on me.
I have a phrase I want to get your evaluation of it. I say that the number one job of an entrepreneur is not to do the job, but to be a creator of jobs. What's your sense of your job is to create jobs as opposed to doing the job?
As a business guy, my job is to create value. Almost the way I think of my job is if I can figure out how to help somebody else make a lot of money, then I will always be able to make money. Does that make sense? Yeah, totally. So it's, it's really about creating a product that somebody else can sell and make a living doing. So if I can create a business in a box that somebody else can go to market with that business and make a lot of money, I have job security. But if you actually think about how can I make somebody else money more than how can I make money, you're gonna be fine. Yeah. That's my philosophy.
Yeah, I like that. Did you notice Don peeled out to put— make an emphasis into that? Just give it a little extra gun.
It's better suited for off-road and probably more competent and capable than really any new vehicle when it's almost 50 years old.
Does your wife drive it or does she—
She does it because her hair flies up.
Oh, okay, okay.
However, we also every Sunday morning We go to the same diner, we sit at the same table, get the same meal, same waitresses, and we drive this truck.
Oh, that's great.
Your daughter like it? Yeah, she loves it. Yeah, yeah, she loves it.
The benefit of being partially bald is there's no hair problems. The only downside is you're partially bald.
Partially bald. I get a lot of comfort from near-death experience stories, right?
Well, in your own now. I know it was—
no, it wasn't like I died and went to heaven, but I, but there was a visual given up diagnosis.
But you had such a visceral experience with your life. It shifted fundamentally who you are.
Shifted fundamentally without question. Yeah, just really taught me. It clarified what was important. What was important to me before was friends, family, relationships, but that was on paper. Yeah. That was the right answer. And after the heart diagnosis, it became the true answer. You know what I mean? Like, oh, that's like, if you had to leave tomorrow, are you really going to spend your last day making more money? Yeah. You know, so like, if you have one year, not— I mean, I'm going to make sure I'm good to my family.
But I guess your calendar was not aligned with your paper beliefs of family and friends.
I think to some degree I was really committed to being home by 5. I was committed to the hours I would spend with my young daughter. But I was guilty of not being very present during those hours. And after that diagnosis, I mean, I was present. And to be clear, I'm in great health. The doctor's just like, yeah, you're in—
No, I got you.
There is something weird. When I was in high school, somebody came to our youth group, guest speaker, and had us write a letter to somebody else in the youth group. Like, I think we picked names out of a hat. I can't remember, but— I got this gal named Sandy Waggett, who was my best friend's girlfriend, and he said, I want you to write a letter to the person that you name, you drew, just to say what you're gonna do with your life. Yeah. And so for whatever reason, I, I kind of thought, well, before I'm 35, I needed a deadline. I thought 35 was kind of when life was over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Before I had 35, I, you know, I'm writing this in Texas. I wanted to get outta the heat in Texas. I didn't wanna live there. So I chose Oregon because I mistakenly believed it bordered Canada. I thought that was as far as you can get. So I said, I'm going to live in Oregon, I'm going to be a New York Times bestselling author, I'm going to be a millionaire. I was 16. Yeah. When I was in my mid-30s, I get a call from Sandy Waggett. She says, Don, my husband and I were moving and we went up in the attic and I found this box of letters. A letter, a letter from you to me was one of them. Do you remember this guy come to our youth group? Like, you know, I vaguely do. She goes, can I ask you something? Like, from what I understand, you live in Oregon. I go, yeah, I live in Oregon. And she goes, this letter says you're going to live in Oregon when you're 35.
Oh my God.
She goes, I know that you're a bestselling author. This letter says you're going to be a bestselling author, New York Times bestselling author by the time you're 35. And I'm like, Sandy, this is creepy. Read me the letter. She says, you're going to be a millionaire. She's like, how much are you worth? I'm like, not quite. Yeah, but you're real close. There is something about Wow. You know, casting a vision.
