My wonderful friend J has Asperger's syndrome. He knows what it's like to be subject to prejudice and unfairness, and he's made it his life's mission to never do that to anyone around him. Plus he's a helluva mechanic and one of a very few people on the planet I'll trust with my car.
My other friend J (different name, same initial) probably has Asperger's syndrome, and his sister A definitely does. They're both musical geniuses; they both sing, and J is a classically trained pianist.
My little basically-niece, age 4, has developmental delays that may or may not put her on the spectrum. One of the things I'm proudest of in my life is that she has chosen me as one of the people she trusts enough to come to with her feelings.
My best friend from high school's five-year-old son has PDD-NOS. The unique thing about him is his rapier wit. The kid is hilarious, just like his parents who are both kooks in the best possible way.
Many of the clients I have worked with are on the spectrum, and to protect their confidentiality, all I can say about them is that they are awesome.
And although he's passed many years ago, my dad - had good diagnostic screenings existed back then - very likely had Asperger's syndrome. He gave me his love of and talent for music, and he threw himself into supporting my love of and talent for writing. And I think Asperger's made him a better dad to me, because while my mom would say things that pretty much any parent says out of anger when I disobeyed ("you're naughty, you're bad, you're a brat, get out of my face"), my dad recognized and accepted and understood that I needed reassurance of the difference between me and my actions. He would actually say out loud to me things like, "I love you, I don't love what you did. You're so much better than what you did." Because my dad was a literal person, he - unlike my mom and unlike many others - never questioned or belittled my need for those literal words.