Willis Johnson: Founder of Copart

What happens when you wreck your car? First, you’ll probably get frustrated—or maybe, hopefully, you take a moment to be grateful that you’re still alive. After that, you’ll call your insurance company to let them know about the accident. From there, the insurance company collects the car and determines whether it can be sold. Usually, they don’t sell it themselves; instead, they pass it off to an auctioneer, who sells the parts or the entire vehicle for them. One company that plays a major role in this process is Copart.

I first came across Copart in a random video while browsing the web for used cars. Yes, I know—I’m an online window shopper. But as I dug deeper, I noticed that Copart was a public company. That led me down a rabbit hole of research, and I quickly realized I had found a great opportunity. The company had an amazing balance sheet, and when I analyzed its management, I found that its founder, Willis Johnson, held a significant number of shares.

That discovery led me to his book, Junk to Gold, where he details how he transformed a small salvage yard into the giant that Copart is today. Surprisingly, he never finished college or earned a business degree. That alone speaks volumes—there’s a lot to learn from him. Before diving into the key lessons from his book, let’s start with his beginnings.

Early Beginnings

Willis Johnson’s business instincts came from his father. At around 12 years old, he would leave school and head straight to his dad’s construction site, watching closely as his father measured, hammered, and built with precision. His dad couldn’t read, so every morning, his mother would read the newspaper aloud to him. That didn’t stop him from spotting opportunities. During World War II, there was a rubber supply crisis, so his father drove from farm to farm, buying old tires for a nickel each and selling them to rubber companies for recycling. That ability to see value where others didn’t was something Willis inherited.

The World Isn’t Always Fair

Hard work was second nature to Willis. He woke up at 3:30 AM to milk cows, loaded them into bottles, then got ready for school. But he learned that hard work alone doesn’t always guarantee success. When his father sold milk, he noticed other farmers were getting paid more. It wasn’t because their milk was cleaner or their cows were better—it was because they had the necessary permits to classify their farm as Grade A. His father’s farm was Grade B, and the government wasn’t issuing any more permits. That lesson stuck with him: The world isn’t always fair, and sometimes no amount of hard work can change that.

Forgiving and Forgetting

Despite the long hours of labor, Willis still found time to be a kid. He rode bikes, shot guns, hunted, fished, and talked about girls with his friends. Sometimes we get so caught up in our work that we forget to enjoy life. This was an important lesson—hard work matters, but so does taking a break and living in the moment.

Don’t Forget Where You Came From

Willis had a saying: “Sittin’ in high cotton.” It meant everything was going well, and in business, it signified high profits. But he also knew that appreciating the highs required remembering the lows. His family struggled—his sisters shared one room, and he and his brother slept on the porch. Clothes were limited to just a couple of outfits per year. Those tough moments shaped him, and he never forgot where he came from.

Finding Value in Everything

When his family moved to California, his father spotted an auction in Nevada and saw an opportunity. A construction company had gone bankrupt and was auctioning off a massive pile of scrap iron. At the time, scrap iron sold for $27 a ton, and a beat-up car cost $5. he used the money from selling the scrap iron to buy beat-up cars If it was missing a radiator, it was even cheaper. Willis watched as his father broke down these cars, selling the alternators, tail lights, grills, and wires. That experience sparked his love for dismantling things—he realized that breaking things down could be just as valuable as building them up.

Lessons from the War

As Willis grew older, he was drafted into the Vietnam War. At first, he didn’t even recognize the term “Uncle Sam” when his mother told him about the letter he received. Military life was tough. He started as a grunt, but he worked his way up to platoon leader.

Push through fear.

In Vietnam, fear was constant. One time, while digging foxholes, mortars started hitting their area. Dirt covered him, and when his unit found him, they thought he was dead. He was covered in blood, but it was from a large wound and several smaller ones. That experience reinforced the idea that even in the face of fear, you have to keep moving forward.

Making Life Count

During the war, Willis lost a close friend named Lamb in an ambush. He was just 24. That loss hit hard. It made him realize that life is short, and every moment matters. The war changed him, reinforcing the importance of making the most of every opportunity.

Building Himself

After the war, Willis tried to get back to normal life. He partied, danced, and met his future wife, Joyce. They clicked instantly. He told her he’d be rich one day, and she believed him. They shared values, work ethic, and even a love for cars.

Times were tough after they got married. Willis worked two jobs, but when he injured his collarbone and couldn’t work, Joyce stepped up—cleaning houses and selling Tupperware. Willis sold his motorcycle and truck just to scrape by. Even then, he never stopped dreaming big. He knew he had to take control of his future.

First Steps

Willis set his sights on owning a wrecking yard. He used the equity in his house to buy a dismantling yard in Rancho Cordova for $75,000, putting $15,000 down and paying the rest over five years. Joyce asked, “Where are we going to live?” His answer? A 12x35-foot trailer in the yard. That was the sacrifice they were willing to make.

Standing Out from the Crowd

The wrecking business was competitive, so Willis traveled across the country, studying successful dismantlers. He noticed that the best ones specialized—some focused solely on Ford parts, others on Chrysler. He realized that to stand out, he needed to specialize in something others weren’t touching. At the time, Chrysler, Dodge, and Plymouth parts were unpopular among dismantlers. So that’s what he focused on, drawing in customers who couldn’t find those parts anywhere else.

These are just a few lessons Willis Johnson learned early on and wanted to share. There are many more, but these stood out to me the most. I’ll likely turn this into a series where I dive deeper into how Willis built Copart and the key lessons he gained along the way.