Justin Knox is the President of Knox Pest Control, one of the largest family-owned pest management firms in the Southeast. Based in Columbus, Georgia, he represents the fourth generation of a company that has been solving pest problems since the 1920s.
Justin started early. At age 12, he was mowing lawns and helping with termite treatments during summer breaks. After graduating from Troy University in 1997, he joined the company full time and worked his way through every part of the business. Today, he leads strategy and operations across five states—Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, and South Carolina.
His leadership is rooted in service. Justin believes success comes from the customers you keep, not just the ones you win. That mindset was passed down from his great-grandfather, Forrest Knox, who started the business with a leather satchel and a handshake.
Under Justin’s leadership, the company has expanded services while keeping its core values: integrity, quality, and faith. He works daily with his team to make sure customers are cared for and technicians are supported.
Outside of work, Justin is a husband, father of three, and lifelong outdoorsman. He spends weekends on the farm, working with cattle or enjoying time with family. For Justin, leadership is about stewardship—of a business, a family name, and a legacy nearly 100 years strong.
He’s not just running a company. He’s building a future that honors the past and serves people well.
Q&A with Justin Knox on the Meaning of Success
Let’s start with the basics. How do you define success?
For me, success is doing something well over a long period of time and staying true to who you are while doing it. It’s not a quick win. It’s showing up year after year and being consistent—in how you treat people, how you run a business, how you lead a team. Success isn’t about titles or revenue charts. It’s about impact. Are people better off because you were part of their story? That’s the question I come back to.
Do you remember the first time you felt successful?
I don’t think there was a single moment, honestly. But I do remember one of the first times I felt trusted. I was still young and helping on termite jobs. One of the senior guys called out sick, and the team needed someone to step in. They looked at me. I wasn’t the most experienced, but I knew the job. That day, I got to lead a small treatment crew. It was just a routine stop, but I remember thinking: they believe I can handle this. That meant something. Sometimes success just looks like someone handing you the keys, even for a day.
You’ve worked in a fourth-generation family business most of your life. How does that shape your view of success compared to someone starting from scratch?
There’s a big responsibility that comes with inheritance. You’re not just trying to prove something to yourself—you’re trying to honor everything that came before you. I didn’t start Knox Pest Control, but I’ve been trusted with carrying it forward. So success for me includes preservation. Not of old methods necessarily, but of core values. I want my great-grandfather’s customer philosophy—“it’s who you keep, not who you get”—to still matter in a digital age.
At the same time, I can’t treat success like a museum. We’ve had to evolve. We use technology now for route planning, billing, training, and customer communication. But the heart of it—the trust and relationships—still comes from people. That’s a balance I try to keep every day.
What’s something that challenged your idea of success?
A few years back, we expanded into a new region, and the numbers looked great on paper. But the rollout didn’t go smoothly. We had some turnover, missed a few expectations, and I realized we were scaling faster than our culture could handle. That was a wake-up call.
I had to step back and ask myself, “Are we just chasing growth, or are we building something that lasts?” It forced me to slow down, invest more in our leadership team, and start focusing on training and culture first before chasing new territory. That moment redefined success for me. Growth means nothing if the foundation can’t hold it.
What do you think people get wrong about success—especially in business?
A lot of people tie it to speed. Fast growth, fast profits, fast decisions. But most of the success I’ve seen—whether in farming, family, or pest control—comes from patience. You learn more in year five of a relationship than in year one. That’s true for customers and team members. But if you’re always in a rush, you miss that deeper layer.
Also, I think some people define success by external markers—how things look. In a family business, I’ve learned to pay more attention to what doesn’t show up in reports. Like how many employees have stayed with us for 10+ years. Or how many customers refer us without being asked. That tells me more than the top line.
Is there something specific from your early work that still influences how you define success today?
Yes—mowing the lawn at the office. That sounds small, but it was my first job at 12. Every week I had to make sure it was clean, edged, and ready for Monday morning. It taught me detail matters. Presentation matters. If a customer pulls up and the office looks messy, they’re already forming opinions before we even speak.
That attention to the little things has stayed with me. I walk properties differently now. I look for wasp nests on eaves, check service tags, ask how the technician greeted the customer. Those details tell the story. If we get the small things right, the big things usually follow.
What’s one success you’re proud of that no one really sees?
Probably how we’ve helped team members build careers—not just jobs. We’ve had folks start in entry-level roles and grow into managers or even regional leaders. That’s not flashy. You don’t see it in marketing campaigns. But when someone says, “I bought my first home because of this job,” or “I’ve worked here 20 years because I feel valued,” that’s success to me. Quiet success, but real.
Final question: If you could go back and give your 22-year-old self advice about success, what would you say?
I’d tell him to listen more. To trust that consistency beats intensity. And to understand that success is not about proving people wrong—it’s about proving the people who believed in you right. That’s what lasts.