My first hands-on experience with a personal computer was when my parents brought home an Apple II Plus. That computer and its sibling, the Apple IIe, introduced our family to the unbounded world of word processing, spreadsheets and, of course, games. These computers also launched my lifelong appreciation of and affection for Apple products. From PowerBook to MacBook Pro, and iPod to iPhone and iPad, a pantheon of insanely great Apple products has delighted me over the years.
Two days ago, I was listening to the radio when I heard a reporter mention Steve Jobs. Knowing that he was seriously ill, I immediately froze in fear of the worst. I had expected that this day would come since he resigned as CEO of Apple for health reasons, but it arrived much sooner than I had hoped. It always does.
During the past couple of days, our collective outpouring of grief over the passing of Steve Jobs acknowledges the personal loss that each of us has felt. Gone was a man responsible for ushering us—all of us—into the computer age. Mr. Jobs’ Macintosh and its revolutionary graphical user interface (GUI) transformed our lives and made us all more productive. Both modern Macs and PCs derive from this common lineage.
His vision also opened the door for many of us to a career in the high tech industry, even if we were not engineers or programmers. More importantly, his products tapped into our innate human desire to create and share. From iPhoto to iMovie and Garageband, we can easily adjust our photos, edit our movies or tweak our tunes and share them with our friends and family throughout the world. In helping us connect with others, we connected with him.
I mourn the passing of a man that knew us better than we knew ourselves; a man who demanded perfection not just for himself, but also for us. He left us all better than whence we came.
From the rest of us,