I don’t think I have ever seen the unanimity of shock like I saw on social media last night when the news of Robin Williams’ death his the news. When a celebrity dies, you can count on some people in your network to take it hard, but many others don’t even notice. Not so with the man who brought us Mork.

In the end, I did not post anything because I didn’t know what I could add to the conversation. It’s not like I think I have an important voice, but what does another post really matter. I wanted to think of something useful to say, if only to show how much Williams’ career meant to me as someone who tries to make people laugh and occasionally think.

The outpouring that hit the Internet last night took on many forms. Some people posted their favorite sayings from “Mork & Mindy,” the show that introduced us to Williams and showed that a sitcom can survive a thin premise when in the hands of an extraordinary talent. Others focused on his dramatic work, especially “Good Will Hunting.” Another line of tribute took us to “Mrs. Doubtfire,” where he perfectly mixed the silly and serious.

The fact that we had so many examples explains why this has hit such a wide swath of regular people. That and the fact that one of the target markets for social media literally grew up watching his career unfold. But the real evidence lies in the reality that Robin Williams wasn’t a comedian or an actor.

He was an experience. From his comedy specials to his movie performances to his talk show appearances to his sitcom characters, he let you live inside his manic mind. We all probably knew, in some way, that he had a screw loose, but let that open a door to experience joy and pathos. We all benefitted from that, which makes this tough to take for so many people.

He also didn’t sully it with an outward dark side. He had some problems with fidelity and struggled with drugs and alcohol, but he didn’t hit or hurt or any of those other things that can sully the memory of someone so talented. Williams merely fought demons that so many other people do, but he couldn’t ultimately win the battle.

That’s what brings so many people together. I don’t profess to know what Robin Williams would want, but remembering those amazing performances and his energy while letting people know that they can find a way out of the darkness regardless of how many awards they have won is probably the best thing we can do.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)