Elwood Edwards died last week. Can’t place the name? Chances are you’ve heard him speak. Edwards, an employee at TV station WKYC in Ohio, was the voice of AOL, declaring for millions of us, “You’ve got mail!”

Ben Baldanza also died last week. Who? If you’ve ever flown on Spirit, you’re familiar with the airline that Baldanza turned into a profitable powerhouse in 2005 with low prices, bare-bones service and bold marketing gimmicks.

And Mike Shatzkin died last week. The name might not ring a bell. But if you’ve bought a book — almost any book — in the last few decades, chances are you benefited from the procedures and strategies he developed as a publishing guru.

We lose roughly 57,000 people in the U.S. each week, most of whom never get a mention in the newspaper. In journalistic terms, that makes them “ordinary Americans.” But I’m going to share a bit about Mike Shatzkin, my close friend, because as accomplished as he was in his chosen field, in his robust personal life he was extraordinary.

More than anyone I’ve known, Mike saw people for what they were and always managed to find something good. As a result, everyone liked him. What a marvelous prescription for a successful life!

When we were kids, he wasn’t much of an athlete, but the jocks in our school admired him. He didn’t drive fast or talk tough, but the guys who did respected him. There were better looking classmates, but many young women were drawn to him. How was this possible?

Mike didn’t judge people. He smiled a lot. He was fiercely opinionated but he never pushed it too far and was careful not to let differences interfere with friendships.

Mike’s dad, Leonard Shatzkin, was responsible for innovations in the publishing trade that included standardizing book sizes for production efficiency, maintaining a nationwide sales force and developing methods for stocking bookstores. Mike followed in his footsteps, advising publishers on how to bring the book business into the digital age, having introduced the concept of “verticality” — or subject-specific publishing — as a way to think about the digital transition.

Mike loved sports. Soon after graduating from UCLA, he wrote “The View from Section 111” (Prentice-Hall, 1970), an account of the New York Knicks first championship season. In 1990, he authored his most impressive work, “The Ballplayers” (William Morrow) — 750,000 words about baseball history. It grew into a website, hosted by CBS Sportsline.

There were other books, various honors and his beautiful marriage with Martha Moran. Mike was a very lucky guy — until a few months ago, when a bout with Covid, and other complications, led to a fatal condition called HLH. There’s a lesson there for all of us: While the pandemic has faded, the need for vigilance about Covid remains.

Always the optimist, Mike was planning to write a book about the wonderful nursing staff that cared for him at New York’s Lenox Hill Hospital. I’m sure they’ll long remember the smiling guy, who reminded them that when we act our best, none of us is ordinary.