Remembering an old friend

I learned a few days ago that one of the true influencers in my early career had passed. I first met Chip Neal at Ch. 11 (NH Public TV) in the early 1980’s, when I was volunteer at the station. Chip was a producer and director there. He was one of the original producers of NH Crossroads, a weekly program that I would later work on from time to time, but I first got to know him as the guy behind the scenes in fundraising and Auction events.

As a volunteer, I was struck by Chip’s openness and generosity. My first “work” at the station was answering phones during fundraising breaks, and the curious kid I was would wander from the studio to learn more about what happens in a TV station. Chip took the time to answer questions, and, to top it off, he seemed to have a great sense of humor.

I would learn later that a sense of humor was necessary to 1.) work in in television, and b.) have any success at it.

When I first started working for a paycheck at Ch. 11, I learned more about who Chip was and what he did. He was, as I mentioned, a producer/director for NH Crossroads, creating interesting segments that often came about because he saw something interesting in the world and he just plain wanted to share it with others. I had the great pleasure of being his photographer a number of times; we visited a frozen lake and watched cars race around in ice races, went to a county fair on a sweltering summer day to watch oxen pull, explored Houghton’s Hardware in town as adults would explore a toy store, and looked at a few historical markers along the way. Met some interesting people because of Chip.

Chip was highly visible as a Crossroads producer, but most folks didn’t know how much scut work he did for the station. The marquee programs were all well and good, but how many people think of telethons and fundraising TV auctions as TV shows? Well, they are. Especially the annual Auction – let’s face it, if you want to raise money on TV selling stuff, you need folks to be watching, and it’s got to be somewhat entertaining. Chip was one of the behind-the-scenes producers of a lot of material for the Auction, especially “Superboard” items, which were high-ticket items that were presented over the course of the week using produced packages – almost product infomercials. Each year we’d have a car donated to auction off, and one year he made a memorable promotional video for this Superboard item that featured a juggler friend of mine.

What I learned from Chip that was far more valuable to me than basic TV production stuff was mindset. When I went out with Chip to work on a story, it wasn’t work – it was play. It was discovery. And he quite often pushed me to explore with my camera, so it wasn’t just a guy talking to a camera telling us a story. He taught me how to bring the viewer along to play, too. This could be from an icy pond to an Auction set.

In the summer of ’87, Chip was tasked with producing and directing a pilot program with Fritz Wetherbee, titled something along the lines of “Fritz Wetherbee’s Yankee Hour.” It was to be a variety show, with Fritz being Fritz, and Fritz would Fritz with a few guests and a musical group, and include some field segments. And it was for this pilot that Chip packed me along to New Boston to record what is one of my favorite stories of my career, the summer evening when the Rotarians played a round of meadow muffin bingo. What you see below was originally three segments that were dispersed throughout the hour-long pilot; Chip took the three segments and stitched them together for a Crossroads feature. Why not? The Fritz pilot didn’t go anywhere, and there was all this great material…

Thank you, Chip, for helping me learn to tell stories, and to look askance at the world around me. The work you did off-screen meant a lot to folks, and to this day, I think of you often. Godspeed.