Fred Smith

They were technically wealthy, but practically middle class.

They lived comfortably in Memphis, but not lavishly.

Fred would later credit this with teaching him that money was a tool, not a goal.

And that lesson would prove critical when he'd risk his entire inheritance on an idea everyone called impossible.

But first came a different challenge.

Fred developed a rare childhood disease, a condition that cuts off all blood supply to the hip joints.

The bones didn't develop properly.

Doctors said it would be years before he could walk normally, and he would never play sports.

For most of his childhood, Fred lived with crutches and leg braces.

The physical therapy sessions were painful and seemed pointless.

While other kids ran around playing, Fred watched from the sidelines.

He became an observer, learning to read people and spot patterns that others missed.

His mother refused to let him give up or feel sorry for himself.

Sally Smith was determined her son wouldn't be defined by his disability.

She drove him to specialists across the South, pushed him through therapy even when it hurt, and never accepted his disability as an excuse for anything.

Fred responded with determination rather than self-pity.

Therapy was excruciating, but he kept at it.

Around age nine, something shifted.

The calcium deposits that had been destroying his hip joints began to recede.

By age 10, through thousands of hours of therapy, he'd overcome the disease completely.