Abraham Lincoln didn’t have a TED stage to share his ideas; he used a tree stump instead. But his talks went viral.

Farmers and townspeople would ride for miles to hear Lincoln speak. What they loved most about Lincoln was the way he used stories to captivate them. “Lincoln drew crowds from the countryside eager to be regaled and entertained by a master storyteller,” writes Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Doris Kearns Goodwin in her new book, Leadership in Turbulent Times.

I ran out of sticky-notes long before I reached the end of Goodwin’s book. I marked more than 50 references to the public-speaking skills which made Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt and Lyndon Johnson exceptional communicators. Goodwin chose these four presidents for their resilience, grit, humility, energy and ambition to serve a greater good. But if she had to pick one lesson that applies to every leader today–one public-speaking skill all leaders can and should sharpen– it would be the power of storytelling to shape hearts and minds.

Abraham Lincoln. At the age of 21, Lincoln left home to seek a better life. When he stopped for a rest, he would sit next to his horse and pull a book from his small shoulder bag. Books were his most prized possession. He found a job as a grocery store clerk and soon became the “center of attention” among farmers who passed through town. According to Goodwin, “He understood early on that concrete examples and stories provided the best vehicles for teaching.”

Goodwin writes that Lincoln refined his skills over time, developing a simple conversational style of speaking and writing using short, clear sentences easily “understood by all classes.” Lincoln learned from experience that most people respond best to arguments if they are delivered in concrete illustrations told through stories as well as metaphors and analogies, the building blocks of narrative.

As Lincoln entered politics, news of his public-speaking skills began to spread throughout the state of Illinois, bringing him more acclaim, admiration and, eventually, enough support to send him to the White House where the weight of his words would change the country and the world.

Theodore Roosevelt. Teddy Roosevelt had many health issues as a child, including attacks of bronchial asthma that nearly killed him. He escaped into the world of books, becoming a ferocious reader,  “transporting himself into the lives of the adventurous heroes he most admired,” according to Goodwin.

Roosevelt’s appreciation for stories began at home. “Storytelling played an integral role in the Roosevelt family life,” writes Goodwin. Roosevelt’s mother “regaled her son” with tales of chivalry and heroes.

Books and stories, Roosevelt later said, form great leaders. He once wrote that leaders “need more than anything else to know human nature, to know the needs of the human soul; and they will find this nature and these needs set forth as nowhere else by the great imaginative writers, whether of prose or of poetry.”

Franklin Delano Roosevelt. At the age of 14, Franklin Roosevelt was sent to boarding school at Groton. It was there that he found his niche as a member of the debate team. He had an excellent memory and prepared so thoroughly that he could speak to audiences without notes (the same speaking skill most of us admire today). Like Lincoln, Roosevelt listened to divergent points of view on every subject, sharpened his skill of persuasive reasoning and learned that a logical appeal in the absence of stories would fail to connect emotionally with his audience.

From 1920, when Roosevelt won the democratic vice presidential nomination, to 1932 when he won the presidential election, Roosevelt had given thousands of speeches. In each campaign he polished his speaking skills—simple, direct, emotional and “managed to keep the driest of subjects from seeming heavy.”

Lyndon B. Johnson. “Storytelling played a central role in young Lyndon’s life, just as it had in the lives of young Abraham, Theodore, and Franklin,” writes Goodwin. When tensions in the Johnson household would flar up, Johnson escaped to his grandfather’s house down the road. “There, the two of them could share an hour or more while Sam Ealy Sr. elaborated upon his cowboy days driving a herd of fifteen hundred cattle.”

According to Goodwin, Johnson’s grandfather “possessed a narrative gift able to shape those early adventures into a vast trove of seminal tales that would form the building blocks of Lyndon’s heroic conception of leadership.”

During the Great Depression, Johnson found a job teaching high school debate. “Storytelling, Johnson taught his students, was the key to successful debating.” Johnson taught a conversational style of debate “illustrating points with concrete stories.” As Johnson’s debate team garnered more victories, townspeople came out to watch. Pep rallies were held to cheer them on. Auditoriums were filled. For a brief moment, the debate team “was more important than the football team,” which is saying a lot in South-Central Texas. When the time came, Johnson used his skills of persuasion to pass the landmark Civil Rights Act.

Great leaders are often great storytellers. If you understand the power of storytelling, you’ll learn the secret of leadership But as Goodwin’s book reveals, great storytellers don’t always start out that way. Yes, when the times called for transformative leaders to take command, they were ready and persuasive—but they had sharpened their storytelling skills for years.