Zig Ziglar at 100: The Man Who Taught Me How to Succeed. Then How to Live.
On what would have been his 100th birthday... November 6th, 2026...
Some people enter our lives and change the direction of our careers. Others change the way we see ourselves, the people around us, and what it means to live a good life.
And then, if we’re extraordinarily fortunate, someone comes along who does all of those things.
For me, that someone was Zig Ziglar. An Angel Thread...
I loved Zig like a father. And I don’t say that lightly.
Nearly four decades have passed since I attended his Born to Win seminar in Dallas, Texas, in 1987. I can still recall the feeling of being in his presence. His enthusiasm was infectious, his stories unforgettable, and his belief in the potential of ordinary people seemed almost limitless.
But what stayed with me wasn’t simply what Zig said from the stage. It was who he was when he stepped off it.
Over the years, I was fortunate to spend precious moments with Zig at his seminars, at Get Motivated events, and eventually at some of his later appearances alongside his daughter, Julie.
Each encounter reinforced something I had come to believe about him: the man and the message were one and the same. I couldn't always say that about other people on the stage.
There was no theatrical separation between the celebrated motivational speaker and the genuinely kind human being standing in front of you.
Zig was Zig.
He could make you laugh until your sides hurt, and a moment later say something so profoundly simple that it would swell your heart and bring tears to your eyes, Something you'd carry with you for the rest of your life.
He had a remarkable gift for making people feel important. Everyone. Not because of their position, accomplishments, or potential to do something for him, but because he genuinely believed they mattered.
And somehow, in a room filled with hundreds or thousands of people, he could make you feel as though he were speaking directly to you.
I know. I was one of them.
A Breakfast I'll Never Forget
One of my most cherished memories of Zig happened entirely by chance.
In May 2007, I was conducting a sales training session for Toyota sales managers at a hotel in Macon, Georgia.
During a break, I heard a familiar voice coming from a nearby room.
There are certain voices you can recognize anywhere. Zig’s was one of them.
Sure enough, there he was, having breakfast with his family.
“Mr. Ziglar, is that you?” I asked.
“Well, it was this morning when I woke up!” he beamed.
That was Zig.
Quick with a joke. Generous with his smile. And capable of turning an ordinary morning into a memory I would treasure for the rest of my life.
When he learned I was conducting a sales training session nearby, he graciously agreed to stop in and visit my class.
Imagine the surprise of those Toyota sales managers when Zig Ziglar himself walked through the door!
They rose to their feet in applause.
Here was one of the most celebrated sales trainers in the world, taking time from his own schedule to encourage a small group of people who were trying to become better at their profession.
He didn’t have to do that.
But that’s precisely why the moment meant so much.
Zig never seemed too important to make someone else feel important.
And the lesson he gave those managers that morning went far beyond anything I could have taught them from the front of the room.
He demonstrated, simply by showing up, what genuine leadership and generosity look like.
More Than a Motivator
People often describe Zig as a motivational speaker. And certainly, he was one of the greatest the world has ever known.
But I’ve always believed that description falls far short.
He was a teacher of human possibility.
He taught that success without integrity was hollow. That achievement meant little if it came at the expense of relationships. That faith, family, character, and service were not distractions from success, but the very foundation of a meaningful life.
And he understood something that many people spend their entire lives trying to discover:
The surest way to improve your own life is to help improve someone else’s.
His famous philosophy about helping others get what they want wasn’t simply a clever approach to selling. It was an invitation to live differently. To recognize the dignity in others. To encourage rather than diminish. To offer hope when someone else has begun to lose it.
To measure our lives not merely by what we accumulate, but by what we contribute.
Throughout my career, whether leading teams, developing salespeople, mentoring young professionals, or navigating difficult decisions, I found myself returning to those lessons.
Sometimes I could almost hear Zig’s distinctive Southern drawl reminding me to keep my attitude right, my priorities straight, and my attention focused on serving others.
I can’t begin to count the number of times his teachings helped me find my footing. And as the years have passed, I’ve come to realize and appreciate that the greatest gift he gave me wasn’t a technique for achieving more. It was a reason for becoming more.
The Zig His Family Knew
I understand that the Zig I knew was only a small part of the man his family knew and loved. To the world, he was a spellbinder, bestselling author, and teacher whose words reached millions. But to Jean, his wife, he was a husband. To Tom, Julie, Cindy, and their beloved sister Suzan, he was Dad.
I believe the truest measure of Zig’s greatness is found not in the applause he received, but in the love he gave those closest to him.
He spoke so affectionately about Jean, his beloved “Redhead” and “Sugar Baby,” that even those of us who had never met her felt as though we knew something of their infinite bond. I had the privilege of knowing her and being one of the many that got to hug her.
His devotion to Jean was never a footnote in his story. It was central to it. So was his faith. Zig didn’t merely talk about Christian values. He worked to make them visible in his words, actions and love for others. His generosity, humility, optimism, and instinctive kindness were expressions of what he believed.
Of course, he was human. Like all of us, he experienced heartache, disappointment, and loss. Yet his faith and his love for his family remained at the heart of the life he shared with the world.
I think that’s one reason he meant so much to me. He didn’t present a life without adversity. He demonstrated what it meant to meet adversity without surrendering hope.
The Gift That Keeps Giving
One of the great blessings of growing older is discovering which influences have truly endured.
Careers change. Titles disappear. Accomplishments that once seemed so important gradually lose their shine. I have a relatively new wife...
But the people who helped us become better human beings remain with us. Zig has remained with me.
I see his influence in the way I approach my writing, my photography, my relationships, and my involvement in the community, Olympic Valley, the place I've called home for the past nearly 8 years.
When I find an opportunity to encourage someone, to recognize their potential, or to help them believe in themselves a little more, I recognize a familiar lesson. And I smile. Because, in some small way, Zig is still teaching.
In a recent essay, A Light Worth Keeping, I wrote about the people in our lives who are like lighthouses. People whose wisdom helps us recognize the rocks ahead, whose encouragement gives us the confidence to venture beyond the harbor, and whose belief in us remains steady when our own begins to flicker.
Zig was one of those great lights in my life.
And today, as I reflect on the hundredth anniversary of his birth, I find myself profoundly grateful that his light continues to shine through his family. Tom, Julie, and Cindy carry something much more precious than a famous name. They carry the example of a father who understood the transformative power of encouragement, the importance of faith, and the responsibility that comes with influencing others. What a beautiful inheritance! And what a remarkable gift they continue to share with the world.
A Personal Thank You
Zig passed away in November 2012, but I've never really thought of his influence in the past tense. Not when I remember the laughter. Not when I think about that unforgettable morning in Macon. Not when I recall his laser focused nuggets of wisdom, his warmth, his generosity, or the tremendous joy he seemed to find in helping someone else succeed. And certainly not when I consider how deeply his example has shaped my own life.
I wish I could sit with him one more time.
Not to ask about sales, leadership, or success.
I’d simply like to thank him.
To tell him what those moments meant to a young man trying to find his way. To tell him how many times his encouragement helped me through moments of uncertainty. To let him know that the lessons he so generously shared have found their way into the lives of people he never met.
And perhaps most of all, to tell him that I loved him.
I suspect he’d respond with that familiar twinkle in his eye, an embrace, and some wonderfully disarming remark that would leave us both laughing.
That’s the Zig I remember.
That’s the Zig I’ll always carry with me.
To Tom, Julie, Cindy, and the entire Ziglar family, thank you for sharing your father with so many of us. I know that those of us who admired him from the audience experienced only a fraction of the love you knew at home. But what a magnificent fraction it was.
On this, what would have been his 100th birthday, I find myself thinking less about how much Zig accomplished and more about how much of himself he gave away.
And maybe that's the greatest lesson of all.
A life well lived is not measured by how many people know your name, but by how many people are better because they knew you.
Nearly forty years after that first Born to Win seminar in Dallas, I’m still learning from Zig Ziglar. Still inspired. Still grateful. And still trying to pass a little of his light along to someone else.
Happy 100th birthday, Zig. "I'll see YOU, and yes I do mean YOU... At The Top!"
I love you, my friend.
And thank you for helping me become a better man.
Michael Kennedy
Olympic Valley, California
12:32 PM
Friday, November 6, 2026
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All photographs by Michael Kennedy (unless otherwise noted) / BlueWolfGallery.com
I’m Michael Kennedy, a resident of Olympic Valley, CA (in photo above with Nicola). I’m a writer and photographer and I love exploring nature and getting lost along the way. I get nervous around Nicola this time of year... We live in a world that demands our attention and I just want to say thank you for your attention. If you enjoyed this post, please share this with a friend. For more photos and stories visit BlueWolfGallery.com. For more info about Zig Ziglar visit HERE.
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