I have a three-legged milk stool in my office perched on top of a cabinet. It is a great symbol for how to succeed in business. There are three legs: Take care of the customer, have a little fun, make a little money. If you don't do that, it doesn't work, but if you do, it comes together easily....

I learned that too many people who become bosses don't understand the market or work as hard as they should.

Here's a classic trap:  A businessman is successful with one business, so he thinks two or three or four would be even better. This changes the equation dramatically. With one operation, you can be there yourself and use the sheer force of your personality to drive it, but as soon as you get two you're dividing your time; you need someone who is strong and good enough to run the other business. It's going to be more difficult to make a profit. Other people don't care about it as much as you do. There are some who work hard, but they are few....

Good people are hard to find, but they're there. We've got many good people in our organization. The trick is to find them jobs that keep them interested and match their talents and what they want to do (not everyone is a boss). Then you have a happy, motivated work force. In our company, we give our general managers the opportunity to buy 10 percent of the dealerships they manage. We prefer that they do this-obviously, someone who has a financial stake in the business is motivated to work hard and make the business a success.

That was Miller's nature, but he also went to some pains to ensure that money didn't change him. As I sat in the Miller house with Gail, she placed her late husband's wristwatch, wedding ring, and wallet on the table in front of me. "Notice anything about them?" she asked. The ring is a plain gold band-which he liked to tell people cost $22- and the watch is a nondescript $100 Seiko with a worn leather wristband. He wore the same watch for years, changing only the band when it began to crack. He didn't buy a new wallet until the stitching fell out of the old one. "He wanted to keep grounded and remember where he came from and not put on airs." says Gail. "He made a conscious effort to remain the same."

Larry wrote in his notes:  "The worry I have with having nice things is getting dependent on them and not having the toughness to survive without them."

"I'll tell you this:  Larry's name should be on that arena somewhere. On the floor or on the building, whatever. When he got into something, he took it seriously. You'd see him down on the ground with a hard hat on when they were building that thing. When he built the Delta Center it was the best arena in basketball. It's first class."

The bishop asked why.

"I don't know, I said. "I can't afford it; I just don't."

So, the bishop asked me if I would star paying tithing and I agreed.

Then he asked me if there were any other problems we should discuss.

"I swear-a lot," I said.

"Do you take the name of the Lord in vain?"

"No,"

"Why do you swear?"

"It's better than hitting people," I said.

The bishop laughed. "Will you quit swearing?"

When I quickly agreed to his request, the bishop said, "You said that readily."

"Well, I don't swear in front of women," I explained, "so I guess I can control myself at other times, too."

The bishop concluded the meeting by asking me again, "Will you quit swearing and will you pay tithing?"

I said yes. I went home-I remember the date: December 28, 1978- and I told Gail, "Starting the fifth of January, I want you to take our gross income and pay tithing on it and don't ever ask me about it again."

A lot of things broke loose after that. If you asked me what the turning points of my life were, I would say marrying Gail and paying tithing. Ever since I made that decision to pay tithing, the Church has been the guiding force in my life-in business, family, everything. I have undergone a curious change since then as well. When I was younger, going to church was a duty. I did it because of social and family pressure. That all changed. Church became an enjoyable refuge for me and a place to learn. I love going to church, sitting there listening to the songs, the lessons, and the testimonies. It feels like a safe, comfortable place, and I have found something to be true that I have always preached to my employees: You can learn something in every meeting if you're teachable and have the right attitude and are humble.

"No matter how hard I work," I explained, "I can't perform well enough to accelerate my pay, and I'm getting married."

He repeated his question:  "Okay, what do you intend to do about it?"

"I guess I'll only give them a $1.45 job if they're only going to pay me $1.45."

He thought about this for a few moments, and then he said, "You could do exactly that and still perform at such a high level that you would outperform your coworkers. So they would never know you were giving less than you had. But you would know, and frankly, you would be the only guy to be hurt by your underperformance. So, as your grandpa, I am going to promise you that as long as you continue to take their paycheck, if you work as hard as you can and learn all that you can in that business, someday it will pay off many times over."

I didn't realize then how profound his counsel would prove to be in my life. For some reason, while I was normally hardheaded and ignored advice-preferring, it seems, to learn the hard way-I took Grandpa's counsel to heart on this occasion. It really made an impression on me. It was one of the great lessons in my life, and I have given my best effort in everything I have done since then. Grandpa was right. It wasn't about beating my employers and their policies; it was about me and doing my best because it was the right thing to do.

I stayed a few more months at the parts store, but I wanted more and I had to move on.