From Lex Friedman at MacWorld.com:
On Twitter and Facebook, in my email, and through IMs, I keep hearing a similar refrain: Why am I so sad? Why am I feeling such a strong reaction to the death of someone I've never met?
Many of us feel tremendous sadness in light of Steve Jobs's death. I can't speak for my friends about why they feel so affected by his passing, but I imagine their reasons for tearing up mirror my own.
Welcome in my home
I can't tell you the name of either one of RIM's CEOs. Though I know his name, I honestly couldn't pick Google CEO Larry Page out of a lineup, and I don't know that I've ever heard his speaking voice, either. But I know just what Steve Jobs looked like, and just how he sounded. Not every CEO can—or should—show off his company's products. But watching Steve deliver a keynote or host an Apple Event, I wasn't struck solely by his much-lauded showmanship. Part of what made a Jobs-helmed event so exciting to watch was his very real, very tangible passion for the products he was unveiling. Steve didn't just run Apple—he loved it, and you could see that love, that pride, beaming from his face.
You hear people talk about television actors as the people we don't know who we let into our homes, since they show up in our dens each night. Every Apple event, Steve showed up in my home too, wherever my Mac was. I would read the liveblog first, then watch the video as soon as Apple made it available. I've watched countless interviews with the man, too. So part of the reason I think his death hits me hard is because I really do feel like I knew him—even if he didn't know me.