I was very high and sitting cross legged and looking through the campfire flames at my friends holding their beer bottles. One of their daughters, my goddaughter, was sitting cross legged beside me.

I’ve had a remarkable life. I’m not famous, nor have I overcome obstacles forced upon many people based on where they were born or their race or gender. I was born a hale white male in America, and I have multiple college engineering degrees, easy access to healthcare, a respectable individual retirement account, diverse and upbeat friends, a loving family, a beautiful home with several raised bed gardens and a refrigerator full of food, and no worries that I don’t impose upon myself. I’m aware that almost half of the 7.7 billion people on Earth will go to bed hungry tonight, and I’m in the top 0.001% of what most people consider privileged. That’s so rare it’s remarkable.

My grandfather, Edward Grady Partin, was a big man with a small part in history.

A 1976 court record easily found online summarizes the first few years of my life concisely and accurately. In Partin vs Partin, the plaintiff was my biologic father, Edward Grady Partin Jr., and the defendant was my biologic mother, Wendy Anne Rothdram Partin. I was “young Jason,” Jason Ian Partin, and I was in the physical custody of Mr. and Mrs. Ed White, my PawPaw and MawMaw. All were trying to gain legal custody of me.