Kentucky Fried Chicken: What Most People Get Wrong About Colonel Sanders

Kentucky Fried Chicken: What Most People Get Wrong About Colonel Sanders

If you walk into a KFC today, you’re greeted by a cartoon. A smiling, white-suited grandpa who looks like he’s never had a bad day in his life. But honestly? The real Harland Sanders would probably hate that guy. He’d definitely hate the gravy.

The story of Kentucky Fried Chicken isn't some pre-packaged corporate success tale. It’s a messy, violent, and surprisingly late-blooming saga of a man who spent 65 years failing at almost everything he touched before he finally hit the jackpot.

The Shootout at the Gas Station

Most people think the "Colonel" was just a sweet old man who liked spices. They don't know about the shootout.

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Back in 1930, Sanders was running a Shell service station in Corbin, Kentucky. He had a bitter rivalry with a guy named Matt Stewart, who ran a Standard Oil station nearby. Stewart kept painting over Sanders’ signs on the highway. Sanders warned him: "Do it again and I’ll blow your head off."

Stewart did it again.

Sanders, along with two Shell employees, went to confront him. Stewart pulled a gun and killed one of the Shell workers. Sanders grabbed his own gun and fired back, wounding Stewart in the shoulder. Stewart went to prison for murder, and Sanders? He basically had a monopoly on the local gas station business. That’s where he started serving chicken. No dining room. Just a table in the back.

He Wasn’t Actually a Military Colonel

Let’s clear this up right now: Harland Sanders was never a high-ranking military officer. He did lie about his age to join the U.S. Army when he was 15, but he was honorably discharged after just a few months. His rank? Private.

The title "Colonel" was an honorary commission given to him by the Governor of Kentucky, Ruby Laffoon, in 1935. It was a "Kentucky Colonel" title—an award for being a local legend and a great cook. He lost the certificate and had to be re-commissioned in 1950 by Governor Lawrence Wetherby. That’s when he leaned into it. He grew the goatee, bleached his hair white to match, and started wearing the string tie.

It was a costume. It was branding before people even called it branding.

The 1,009 Rejections (A Real Number?)

You’ve probably heard the legend that he was rejected 1,009 times. It sounds like a motivational poster. But think about the reality of that for a second.

In 1955, Sanders was 65 years old. The government built a new interstate that bypassed his restaurant in Corbin, and his business died overnight. He was left with a $105 social security check. He lived in his car, a 1946 Ford. He drove around the country, sleeping in the backseat, trying to convince restaurant owners to use his "Secret Recipe."

His pitch was simple: "I'll show you how to cook the chicken. You give me a nickel for every bird you sell."

He wasn't selling a franchise. Not at first. He was selling a process. He used a pressure cooker—not a deep fryer—to make the chicken faster without losing the moisture. At the time, that was high-tech. Most places were pan-frying chicken, which took 30 minutes. Sanders could do it in nine.

The $2 Million "Mistake"

By 1964, there were over 600 Kentucky Fried Chicken locations. Sanders was 73. He was tired. So, he sold the company to a group of investors for $2 million.

In today’s money, that’s about $20 million. It sounds like a lot, but for a global empire? He got fleeced. He stayed on as a brand ambassador, but he quickly realized he had no control over the quality. He hated the new management. He thought they were cheap.

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He once walked into a KFC in the 70s, tasted the gravy, and told a reporter it was "pure wallpaper paste." He called the chicken "a damn fried doughball stuck on some chicken." He even tried to open a competing restaurant called "The Colonel's Lady" just to spite the new owners. They sued him. He countersued. It was a nightmare.

Why It Still Matters

What we can learn from Sanders isn't just about perseverance. It's about obsession. He was obsessed with the pressure cooker. He was obsessed with the 11 herbs and spices. He was a perfectionist who happened to be a terrible businessman for most of his life.

If you’re looking for a takeaway, it’s this:

  • Adapt your tech: Sanders didn't invent the pressure cooker, but he was the first to realize it was the key to fast food chicken.
  • Build a persona: The white suit was a choice. It made him a mascot.
  • Don't sell too early: If he had held on a few more years, that $2 million would have been $200 million.

Today, the "Secret Recipe" is kept in a digital safe in Louisville, Kentucky. It’s surrounded by motion sensors. People still debate what’s in it (mostly salt, pepper, and MSG, if you believe the lab tests). But the real secret wasn't the spices. It was the old man who refused to quit even when he was sleeping in his Ford.

Actionable Insights for the Modern Entrepreneur

  1. Iterate on existing tools: Look at what everyone else is using "the wrong way" and see if there's a speed advantage. Sanders used the pressure cooker for safety; he used it for speed and texture.
  2. Control your likeness: If you are the face of your brand, ensure your contract gives you veto power over how that face is used long-term. Sanders felt like a prisoner to his own image.
  3. Validate your "Nickel": Sanders' 5-cent royalty model was genius because it scaled without him needing to manage the day-to-day operations of every kitchen.