At the time, I was a young professional working for a large company. One afternoon, management gathered everyone into a large auditorium-style meeting room to hear a guest speaker discuss organizational change.
I don't remember much about the introduction. I do remember what happened next. As the audience applauded, a short, bald-headed man in a suit confidently walked across the stage carrying a plastic milk crate.
A milk crate.
It seemed completely out of place. When he reached the lectern, he casually dropped the crate on the floor, stepped onto it, and suddenly stood tall enough to see comfortably over the podium.
The room erupted in laughter.
Within seconds, he had accomplished what every speaker hopes to accomplish. He had everyone'sattention. That speaker was Alan Parisse, although I didn't know at the time that our paths would cross again years later when I would eventually interview him for my television program on professional speaking.
What I didn't realize that afternoon was that I wasn't just listening to a presentation. I was witnessing the beginning of a career. Something shifted inside me during those ninety minutes.
While everyone else was listening to the message about change, I found myself fascinated by the mechanics of the presentation itself.
How did he create laughter?
How did he command attention?
How did he make 150 people feel like he was speaking directly to them?
I watched his gestures.
I listened to the rise and fall of his voice.
I noticed how he moved across the stage.
I paid attention to how he connected with the audience.
One moment particularly stood out. To reinforce a point, he pulled out a copy of the local newspaper and referenced an article that directly affected many of us in the room. That may not sound remarkable until you realize he had flown in from Utah only hours before taking the stage.
It was a small detail, but it taught me a lesson that I still use today:
Great speakers make every audience feel like the presentation was created specifically for them.
When the program ended, most of my coworkers headed back to their cubicles. I headed toward the stage. I waited patiently until I had a chance to thank him for the presentation. Then I shared something that felt almost ridiculous to say out loud.
I told him I wanted to do what he did. I wanted to become a professional speaker. I asked if he could give me one piece of advice. Just one. His answer was simple.
"Find mentors."
He encouraged me to seek out speakers who were already doing what I hoped to do. Attend their programs. Learn from them. Ask questions. Study their craft. Buy them a cup of coffee if they'll give you a few minutes of their time.
That advice changed my life. In the years that followed, I attended presentations whenever I could.
I studied speakers.
I watched pastors deliver sermons.
I observed trainers, coaches, and presenters.
I became a student of communication.
Looking back now, I realize something important. The presentation itself inspired me. But the conversation afterward launched me. Today, after decades of speaking, training, writing, and working with audiences, I still remember that afternoon.
And it makes me curious.
Can you remember the moment that put you on the path you're on today?
If you're a speaker, trainer, coach, consultant, teacher, or leader, was there a person who inspired you? Was there a presentation that changed the way you thought about your future?
I'd love to hear your story.
Because every speaker has one.
And every journey starts somewhere.





