"She made us read, think, and care about important issues," says Nancy Glass, the Bala Cynwyd producer of cable shows, via e-mail.
In so doing, Oprah has fashioned an incredibly intimate bond with her audience.
"Imagine you have a really good friend who lives on your block," says Dr. Phil McGraw, one of the protégés Oprah has catapulted to fame.
"Every single day, she comes over and you sit down and talk about the things that matter. And she supports you when you're troubled. Oprah has that kind of relationship with people she's never met. They trust her implicitly."
Small wonder her impending finale is causing panic among her fans. Go to her website (Oprah.com) and scroll through the discussion boards. They're filled with deperate appeals like "Please, please, please Oprah! Don't go!"
Take a breath, people.
"The end of the Oprah Winfrey show does not end Oprah," Kathryn Lofton, assistant professor of American studies and religious studies at Yale University, says via e-mail.
"It merely signals the end of an era in which she has become a representative icon: an icon of suffering, of spiritual certitude, of material hunger, and of female empowerment."
How can one woman mean so much to so many?
We're all familiar with the creation story: Born to a poor single mom in rural Mississippi.
Given the Old Testament name of Orpah, which was so often mispronounced that the girl adopted a more mellifluous variation. Raped at 9. Pregnant at 14.
Broke into broadcasting at a local radio station, worked her way up to cohosting a marginal TV morning show in Baltimore.
Then came the big break. WLS-TV in Chicago was looking to replace the anchor of AM Chicago. Similar format, far larger market.