James LeVoy Sorenson: Elusive billionaire

"My dad had to duck to go into the front door," Sorenson said. "I remember it was a celebration when he built a bathroom with a toilet and a shower. I guess what I remember most about the shower was one time I went in there and there was a water snake crawling up the shower curtain."

When Sorenson started school, his first teacher told him he was mentally retarded and probably never would be able to read. Sorenson accepted his teacher's assessment, believing he was stupid. It would be decades until Sorenson realized his childhood disorder was dyslexia.

The family's abject poverty during the height of the Depression was somewhat softened by devoted parents — in particular, Sorenson's mother.

"She was my confidante. She was my courage. She was my comfort in times of stress," he said. "I didn't know how poor I was because I was too young to recognize poor from rich. I knew I was rich in things that counted, like a loving mother and a dedicated and productive father."

In spite of learning obstacles and low grades, Sorenson's talent for recognizing business opportunities soon surfaced.

At 13, Sorenson begged his father to buy the northern California Coca-Cola franchise for $2,300. His father had painfully scraped and saved the money over several years, but he was reluctant to make the deal without 60 days of working capital.

Sorenson offered to quit school and drive a delivery truck. But where the teenager saw a sure money-maker, his father saw only risk and decided not to take the chance.

It was a setback. But riches would not evade the young Sorenson much longer.

Early success

After serving an LDS Church mission to the New England states, Sorenson landed a pharmaceutical sales job with the Upjohn Co. covering the Salt Lake territory.

Between sales visits to physicians, Sorenson found himself scouting homes and property, trying to predict where Salt Lake's growth would turn next. Instead of lavishly spending money on physicians to attract their business, Sorenson would pocket the difference between the padded number his supervisor told him to report on his weekly expense sheet and the money he actually spent to buy a couple of Cokes for the doctors. The spare money invariably ended up buying land.

It was not long before the salesman was making more money off his real estate holdings than his full-time job. But his investment distractions did not go unnoticed by Upjohn. After 8 1/2 years on the job, the company fired him.

Sorenson stopped selling for Upjohn, but he kept buying land.

Today, he owns nearly 68,000 acres in Utah and smaller parcels in Wyoming and California.