My name is Kasey F. Jackson, and I’m the inventor of the Hunkerin Stool. But, before I tell you about this revolutionary product that’s changing lives, I need to tell you about the journey that made it all possible—a journey filled with extreme highs, devastating lows, and ultimately, the kind of breakthrough that only comes when desperation meets determination.

I was born and raised in Orem, Utah, tucked into the base of the majestic Wasatch Mountains. For as long as I can remember, I have gone hard, balls to the wall! This has been both a blessing and a curse throughout my life. I’ve never known moderation, never understood the concept of “taking it easy,” and frankly, that intensity has shaped everything about who I am today.

Growing up, I lived and breathed football. The sport became my obsession, my pathway to excellence, and ultimately my ticket to something most high school athletes only dream about. Through sheer determination and countless hours of grinding it out on the field, I earned a full-ride Division I scholarship to play football at the University of Hawaii.

Picture this: I’m this kid from Utah, suddenly thrust into paradise, playing college football, living my dream! Living in Hawaii, surrounded by beaches and perfect weather, I couldn’t slow down; I went harder, found a lower gear! My days were consumed by hours upon hours of football training and brutal weightlifting sessions. But football was just the beginning of my journey with extreme physical demands. Also, during the summers I would work long hard days as a laborer. Then come home and hit the gym!

Football was my first passion. Then I watched the my first UFC fight! It takes one ball to play football and two balls to fight. You play football you don’t play fight. I dove headfirst into Mixed Martial Arts, stepping into the cage as a professional fighter. There’s something about combat sports that speaks to a certain type of person—the willingness to put everything on the line, to test yourself against another human being who’s trying to break you.

I pursued Brazilian Jiu Jitsu with the same obsessive intensity, eventually earning my 2nd-degree black belt. For those who don’t know, reaching that level requires years of dedication, countless hours on the mats, and a willingness to get submitted, smashed, and beaten up over and over again until you finally start to understand the art. You must leave your ego at the front door of the gym. But I still wasn’t done pushing my body to its limits.

I became a Strongman competitor, lifting and carrying weights that most people can’t even imagine. Then at 40 I discovered the International Highland Games Federation’s Stones of Strength circuit. (Strong Man Competitions with stones). The ancient tradition of lifting stones demand not just strength, but a kind of explosive power that puts tremendous stress on every joint and muscle in your body. Truly, functional power!

Looking back now, I realize I was addicted to the extremes. I was addicted to pushing my body beyond what seemed possible, to finding new ways to test my physical and mental limits. Each sport, each competition, each training session was another way to prove to myself that I could go harder than anyone else.

Years of this lifestyle began to take their toll. I suffered severe lower lumbar strains that would leave me unable to move for days. I tore, herniated, and bulged discs in my spine—injuries that any doctor will tell you are serious business for someone who wants to maintain an active lifestyle. I accumulated these injuries like battle scars, each one a testament to the intensity with which I’d lived my life.

But here’s the thing that shocked me, and continues to shock people when I tell them: the most pain and discomfort I have experienced isn’t from any of these dramatic injuries. It’s from something that millions of people do every single day without thinking about it.

Sitting for prolonged periods of time became absolute torture. My low back, which had endured professional fights, lifting cars, and throwing heavy stones, could no longer tolerate the simple act of sitting in a chair for extended periods. The static 90-degree position that modern chairs force us into became my enemy.

Think about the irony of this for a moment. I could step into a cage with a trained killer trying to choke me unconscious, and that was manageable. I could lift stones that weighed hundreds of pounds, and my body could handle it. But put me in an office chair for a few hours, and I was in agony.

This realization forced me to confront an uncomfortable truth: no human body was designed to sit in a static 90-degree position for hours at a time. We’ve created a modern lifestyle that’s fundamentally at odds with how our bodies are meant to function. “Sitting is the new smoking”.

Faced with this reality, I had two choices: accept that sitting would always be painful and limit my activities accordingly, or find a better way. Anyone who knows me could have predicted which path I’d choose.

I began researching everything I could about posture, spinal health, and alternative body positioning. That’s when I discovered the deep squat, known in yoga as the malasana pose. This ancient position, which remains natural and comfortable for people in many cultures around the world, offered incredible benefits for spinal health, hip mobility, and overall postural alignment.

The deep squat naturally decompresses the spine, opens the hips, and engages the core muscles in a way that promotes strength and stability. It’s a position that our ancestors would have naturally assumed for rest, work, and daily activities. In many parts of the world, people still squat comfortably for hours while socializing, working, or simply resting.

I was fascinated by the potential benefits, but when I tried to implement this position in my own life, I ran into the same problem that stops most modern adults: it was too problematic for me to rest comfortably in a deep squat for any extended period.

My ankles would burn with the unfamiliar stretch. My knees would ache from the sustained position. My hips were too tight from years of sitting and specific athletic movements. I simply couldn’t rest comfortably in that position for very long, no matter how beneficial I knew it could be.

This was incredibly frustrating. Here was a position that could potentially solve my sitting problems, but my body—despite all its strength and athletic conditioning—couldn’t handle it comfortably.

Sometimes the most profound insights come from the simplest memories. As I struggled with this problem, my mind wandered back to my childhood and my grandfather, Kermit H. Jackson, who was a dairy farmer.

When I was a young boy, I would visit his farm and help with the daily chores. One of my jobs was helping to milk the cows, and my grandpa had these small milking stools that we’d use to get down into the right position. The milking stool allowed us to get down in a lower squat position, which was necessary for the work, but obviously it was far too uncomfortable to rest on for extended periods of time.

That memory sparked the first piece of the puzzle. The milking stool provided the right positioning but lacked the comfort and support necessary for extended use. Then came the second flash of inspiration: what if I could use a spring somehow to support my body weight?

This wasn’t just wishful thinking from someone with no technical background. I brought practical experience as a former General Contractor, so I understood building, materials, and structural principles. Plus, I had access to professional engineering expertise through my father, Kerm, who is a professional engineer and became instrumental in helping me bring this concept to life.

What followed were years of prototyping, testing, and refinement. Anyone who’s ever tried to invent something will tell you that the gap between having a good idea and creating a functional product is enormous. It’s filled with countless failures, endless iterations, and moments where you question whether the whole thing is even possible.

I built prototype after prototype, each one teaching me something new about what worked and what didn’t. Some designs were too unstable. Others were too rigid. Some provided support but eliminated the beneficial movement that made the position valuable. Others allowed movement but didn’t provide adequate support for comfortable extended use.

My background in construction was invaluable during this process. I understood materials, I could work with my hands, and I had the practical experience to turn concepts into physical prototypes. But having my father’s engineering expertise was equally crucial. He helped me understand the physics of what I was trying to achieve and guided me toward solutions that would actually work in the real world.

The breakthrough came when we developed the concept of using three conical compression springs. This wasn’t arbitrary—the three-spring configuration represents the optimal balance of support, stability, and dynamic movement that allows the stool to function as intended.

The three-spring design is what makes the Hunkerin Stool truly revolutionary. These aren’t just regular springs—they’re conical compression springs that are secured to both the top and base boards with spring retention plates for safety and consistency.

What makes this patent pending design so special is that the three springs allow you to rest for extended periods of time in beneficial positions while also allowing you to articulate in a full 360 degrees. You can move and bend forwards, backwards, and side to side, all while the springs support your body weight. The stool literally moves with you!

This creates what I call “active rest”—a state where you’re supported but not constrained, comfortable but not static. It’s the opposite of traditional seating, which forces your body to conform to a rigid position.

But the versatility goes beyond just the deep squat. You can use the Hunkerin Stool to rest in the seiza pose (on your knees), and the springs take the pressure off your knees. You can use it for a modified hero pose (Virasana pose). The design accommodates multiple beneficial positions that would otherwise be uncomfortable or impossible for most people to maintain.

The name “Hunkerin Stool” isn’t just clever branding—it represents a deeper connection to human heritage and natural movement patterns. The word “hunker” means to crouch, squat, or settle down on one’s haunches, and it’s likely related to the old Norse word “huka,” meaning to squat. This connection to my Scandinavian heritage feels particularly meaningful.

This etymology reveals something profound about what we’ve lost in modern life. The ability to “hunker down”—to comfortably assume low positions for work, rest, and social interaction—was once a fundamental human skill. By reconnecting with this ancestral movement pattern through modern engineering, the Hunkerin Stool represents more than just ergonomic improvement—it’s a return to natural human positioning that our bodies remember and crave.

What started as my desperate search for relief from chronic back pain has evolved into something much larger. The Hunkerin Stool represents the intersection of ancient wisdom and modern innovation, born from someone who understands both extreme physical performance and the devastating reality of injury.

My journey from chronic pain to innovation taught me that sometimes our greatest struggles become the catalyst for our most meaningful contributions. The years of physical punishment, the frustration of being unable to sit comfortably, the countless hours of prototyping—all of it was necessary to create something that could help others facing similar challenges.

This is more than just my personal story. It’s a testament to the power of refusing to accept limitation, of channeling adversity into innovation, and of the belief that there’s always a better way if you’re willing to work hard enough to find it.

In my next post, I’ll share the technical details of the final design, the incredible feedback we’re getting from customers, and why I believe the Hunkerin Stool represents a fundamental shift in how we think about seating and positioning in modern life.

For now, I’ll leave you with this: sometimes the thing that breaks us becomes the foundation for building something that can help heal others. The Hunkerin Stool isn’t just a product—it’s proof that innovation born from genuine need has the power to change lives.

Ready to learn more about how this patent-pending innovation can transform your relationship with positioning and comfort? Stay tuned for Part 2, where I’ll dive deep into the technical brilliance and life-changing benefits of the Hunkerin Stool.

It’s time to Hunker Down!