He was born in the blueberry capital of the world—Hammonton, New Jersey. And of course he likes blueberries. Chip Capelli is so good-natured, it’s hard to imagine anything—or anyone—he could encounter that he wouldn’t like.
After spending most of his career in nonprofit management, he moved to Provincetown fulltime three and a half years ago to provide accounting, payroll, and tax preparation for small businesses and individuals. “I’ve always been a small-town guy,” he says. “I like going to the Stop & Shop and seeing people I know from around town. I like knowing that I’m bringing something special to the community.” He adds, quickly, “But I’m not in business to take business away from anybody else. The other accountants in town are terrific. We each bring something slightly different to the table.”
Why accounting? He laughs. “My dad said if I became an accountant I’d always have a job, and he was right: I’ve never been out of work one day.” But what he does goes deeper than just job security: “People come here frightened,” he says. “I like making them feel comfortable. Money issues, tax issues, they can be scary, I get that. So I make people feel better. I take care of them. People can breathe again.”
Capelli brings a special brand of caring to everything he does. “He genuinely cares about every single person in here,” says Jean Cassidy, his assistant. “The minute he starts talking to someone, they’re his friend. Forever. He still has friends from first grade. He keeps his relationships and he forgets nothing. Everything that’s important, birthdays, important events, he remembers it all, and not just for his friends but for his clients, too.”
When he’s not making friends or doing accounting, Capelli is a writer. “I always wrote, always created,” he says. I kept diaries and journals—it’s a nice creative outlet. I’m still writing fiction, all the time.” His guilty secret? “I’ve been a soap opera fan since I was a kid. It’s more about the characters than anything else. I love following the characters and seeing what they do.”
Where will he be in ten years? “I’ll be doing taxes until I can’t see anymore,” he says with a smile. “I’ll probably still be sitting right here. It’s where I belong.”