We became acquainted under circumstances that we both would have rather avoided. We were patients together at Jordan Hospital in 1976. I had been in an automobile accident, had broken my leg and was pretty banged up in general. I ended up in a four-bed ward; diagonally across the room from me was a guy with the largest plate of ice cream I had seen in a long time. That was Neale; and, if memory serves me correctly, I saw a few more of those plates in the days that followed.

Neale was recovering from back surgery; we were roommates for a week, maybe two. He was great company. His quick wit and sense of humor helped pass the time. His wife Marge, who also has a wonderful sense of humor, was a great source of support for Susan (and me) during those days.

It was a couple of years later that Susan and I ended up living in Kingston – truthfully, by chance as much as by plan. When we decided to upgrade from our first "starter home" a few towns away, we answered an ad that described a house on Silver Lake. And, as they say, the rest is history.

In planning the move, we remembered my hospital roommate and were pleased that we already knew some bona fide Kingstonians (even if we weren’t 100% sure they would remember us!) and planned to call the LaPlantes as soon as we got settled. As it turned out, we instead bumped into them at the town landfill one Saturday afternoon.

We renewed the friendship, and over the years learned a lot from both Neale and Marge about our adopted hometown. As stewards of one of the oldest operating boatyards in the country, they had many interesting stories to tell about boats, boating and a variety of other topics.

Neale had an appetite for good stories, and a greater appetite for food. My initial assessment of his fondness for ice cream was right on the mark. Marge recalled the time that she and Neale took a trip to Tahiti and the natives nicknamed him the ‘Banana Split King.’ She joked, "Even halfway around the world, they had his number!"

He was a genius at getting boats running and keeping them running. He could resuscitate even the toughest motors and breathe another year’s life into almost any vessel. He and Marge worked long, hard hours to build Landing Marine into a thriving business. And more than a few times, Neale was known for significantly reduce the bill for his services for someone in need. He was one of those honest, hard-working guys who seemed to relish the mix of running a business and being part of a community – from attending town meetings to serving on the Waterfront Committee to "holding court" with visitors on a variety of subject.

As Neale’s health deteriorated, though, it became impossible for him to keep to the grueling schedule he once followed, and eventually they gave up running Landing Marine. Marge recalls that Neale was pleased knowing that the boatyard would continue on in good hands, and that people would continue to enjoy the sights and sounds of the Jones River and Kingston’s waterfront.

He faced his declining health bravely, with the support of a loving and caring family —his wife Marge, daughters Jennifer and Julia, and their families.

Neale LaPlante helped make Kingston a unique and special place. He was definitely one of our town’s "good guys." When I think of the saying that some people "get their reward in Heaven," I’m betting that for Neale that includes unlimited portions of ice cream.