Heritage Award 2000 Acceptance Speech
by Nathaniel P. Reed '51
Given October 10, 2000

Headmaster Widmer, Meera, distinguished members of the faculty and staff, young women and young men of Deerfield Academy-it is a joy to introduce to you my wife Alita-my mentor and my most valued critic-and our children, Nathaniel, Jr. class of '84 and his wife Emily, our daughter 'Lia Reed, Adrian and his wife Michelle, my grandson Benjamin Whitacar Reed, my brother Samuel-class of '53, and his son Charles class of '84.

If I exhibit a slightly bemused look, perhaps better identified as "incredulous", please bear with me.

For I doubt that in the long history of Deerfield Academy has this great honor been awarded to "a son of Deerfield" who on graduation appeared to have less promise than I, Nathaniel P. Reed.

If ever there was an example of Dr. Boyden's and Deerfield's magic, he stands before you! Number one brother Adrian (Class of '49) selected Deerfield as school of choice.

Adrian had physically matured early, was a fine student and athlete. He made many friends and was an "inside man" among his classmates.

I was anything but a "regular guy"!

Before Deerfield, I had found happiness strolling in the woodlands that surrounded our home in Greenwich, Connecticut and literally on and in the waters of the Indian River at our winter home on Jupiter Island, Florida.

I fished-for any fish-anywhere-at any time of the day and night.

I could name the vast majority of eastern birds, trees and most importantly, butterflies and moths by the time I was ten. This was because, in the midst of the war, I was sent to a summer camp in Maine. Their experts in the field of lepidoptera taught me to hunt, kill, and mount butterflies and moths.

I learned how to search and to identify their eggs, how to raise the eggs to caterpillars, nurture the cocoon and then produce the final stage-the full-grown specimen.

Returning home, my bedroom was turned into a veritable menagerie of coddled insects! Escapes by valuable caterpillars caused panic throughout the household!

With my outdoor focus, I had a problem of not totally comprehending a "schedule". I would be lost to my own for long periods of time.

The amazing thing about my parents is that they understood that I was going to be "different"! Instead of reining me in, they encouraged me to spread my wings and try new adventures.

Neither my mother nor father hunted or fished. At the age of five, my mentor became Andrew Ondich, the Reed family's beloved Florida caretaker. "Uncle Andy" and I fished daily. We walked and waded across the miles of south Florida in pursuit of quail and snipe.

Blissfully ignorant of their place in the ecosystem, my brother, Samuel and I took up the assassination of poisonous water moccasins. Uncle Andy's battered pick-up truck was the preferred transport afield. We shared a level of excitement that after all these years still brings back a "rush"!

I found that I loved Florida! I loved the majesty of the flat woods, the sloughs, the cypress heads, the dynamic tidal rivers, the boundless fishing and the real "characters" that shared my love of Florida.

After all this "escape" to the outdoors, it was truly a shock to be delivered to Deerfield in the fall of 1947.

Adrian had led, and mother and father, "mesmerized" by Dr. Boyden, decided I should follow.

My younger brothers, Samuel and Joseph, continued the family tradition of deep roots at Deerfield.

I was tall and gangling, not very coordinated and a hopeless student.

The school was rigidly regimented, but I learned I could escape to the hills on Sunday afternoons in the fall and winter and to the river during the long spring afternoons and evenings.

Dr. Boyden succinctly summed up my years at Deerfield: "We fed him, we let him sleep ten hours a night, quartered him next to Nelson Doubleday and Brad Bayne, two excellent students with the hope, if not the expectation, that some form of education would rub off onto him!"

Nelson and Brad could manage three hours of homework in forty-five minutes. I traveled back and forth to their rooms: "What is the solution to this problem-how is someone expected to answer that stupid question?"

I'm not sure how much knowledge rubbed off, but strong bonds of friendship, a hallmark of Deerfield, did form.

It was here, in the dormitories, the dining room, at movies on the hard wooden bleachers of the Barn-yes, a barn-at the evening meetings on the floor of the Old Dorm, in the classrooms, on the playing fields and while flushing the outdoor hockey rinks with water every winters late frigid evenings with Bob Merriam that I began to grow from a rugged individualist to a person that could work with others to achieve a common goal.

That was one of the great strengths of Boydens' Deerfield. We all learned to march, sit and sing together. You were a "team" - the Deerfield Boys!

The experience is unforgettable.

Today, ladies and gentlemen, you continue that great tradition of forging truly memorable teams, not only on the playing fields, but in the classrooms and dormitories.

Four years at Trinity College-happy years-growing years-then a short teaching stint at Deerfield. I taught the slowest boys classes-everything from geometry (which I had failed) to European history (which I had enjoyed).

I then entered the military intelligence service. It was my first opportunity, as a mature young man, to see the world.

I worked in all of Western Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East.

My military tenure polished Deerfield teachings through practical experiences.

I learned to write clearly with a minimum of words.

I learned how to brief: from enlisted men to generals, clearly and accurately.

I learned how to study-hard-far beyond what I had experienced at Deerfield or Trinity.

I learned to trust-and to distrust. I served during one of the most dangerous periods of the "cold war". I learned to work within a highly organized staff and as a commander of an unit.

Returning to Florida following my discharge, I found that the forces of avarice and greed were destroying every natural feature that made our state unique. All those things I'd cherished as a child were being ditched, diked, drained, or simply flattened. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers were everywhere. In every corner of the state the Corps was "improving on nature, draining swamps and killing mosquitoes".

The Corps even cited "national defense" as justification to propose a canal across the state's midriff. They maintained that, without it, Russian submarines could sink barges coming around south Florida.

They ditched and diked the Everglades, draining thousands of acres of wetlands for land development and agriculture. Florida became a Boom Town!

The few Floridians that stood up and asked: "What the devil is going on?" were considered "nuts".

During debate over the wisdom of a proposed jetport deep in the Everglades, the Mayor of Dade County actually offered me-at a public meeting-a glass house filled with butterflies and a special net if I would only just "shut up"!

The majority of the early Florida environmentalists-we were called "conservationists" at that time-were women, most of them older than myself.

We all fell under the spell of great teachers and thinkers-men like Art Marshall and Archie Carr.

Many of these experts really understood the ecology of Florida and what was being lost. But only Dr. Marshall and a very few others dared to leave their university sanctuaries to take up the fight.

But, to their credit, collectively, they gave our convictions sound scientific basis. At last we had a solid foundation for our opposition to thoughtless growth and the seemingly endless list of destructive projects being proposed to decimate Florida. Those scientists reinforced a lifelong conviction-don't hesitate to fight for your convictions- but get your facts straight before you charge forth!

I felt like I was everywhere at once-speaking out, organizing, and attending endless meetings.

You had to be brave, or a tad naïve-and an eternal optimist to believe you stood a chance to persuade the political powers to cancel ill-conceived plans.

An "old boy" network ran the state. They did not want any changes. The Corps was their handmaiden. Yes, the Corps thought up land enhancement schemes that they sold to the local Chamber of Commerce, but the real destroyer of Florida were the people of Florida. They knew not what they had and they thought they wanted something else-something that, if "improved", would generate more revenue than the "worthless swamps".

The politicians simply mirrored public desires-growth at any costs-for instant profit.

We got short-term benefits in exchange for long-term woes.

In 1967, Claude Kirk was elected Governor of Florida. He was a real maverick-flamboyant- perhaps almost eccentric. He was the first Republican governor in 100 years. Perceiving that he might well be the last for a long time, he set out to get things done! He called me-"Reed, you've ranted enough about Florida's ills-come to work for me and we'll cure them!"

It sounded impressive.

He paid me $1 a year.

I'm still not sure that my office wasn't created out of an old broom closet!

But the office was near the Governor's office. I learned the value of "proximity to the throne".

My task was to advise the Governor in developing sound environmental policies for our state.

After I had badgered him for several years on policy issues, he had his revenge.

"Reed, I'm naming you to head the new Air & Water Pollution Control Department-now you go figure out how to implement all these goals and policies you've had me adopt!"

Becoming head of Air & Water was my first experience as a bureaucrat-in the positive sense of the word.

Throughout my maturation I had discovered the key to success in government or business. The successful attracted a superb staff. They're not the "lone wolves" as I was in my youth, but the person who recognizes his or her limitations and is not afraid to attract brilliant assistants.

Ladies and gentlemen, you don't have to know everything-you just need to know people who-collectively--do. And then lead them as an effective team. The team lessons learned so long ago here at Deerfield remain a keystone in my life.

Of course the task was daunting-imagine inheriting responsibility for a state where only one major city has a passable sewer system. Millions of gallons of raw sewage were pumped into the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico daily. There were no rules regulating air and water pollution.

Governor Kirk handled the predictable screams of outrage that followed the establishment of strict air and water quality standards and their enforcement. At the conclusion of his term, and mine, great progress had been made.

I had planned to return to Jupiter Island and become a "proper" husband and father to our three children who had rarely seen me during my Tallahassee tenure.

Then Governor-elect Reuben Askew, a Democrat, asked me to stay on as his environmental advisor and continue leading the Department.

I learned invaluable management skills from this remarkable man. He was highly principled, organized, and had a firm agenda. And then I received another invitation I couldn't refuse. In the spring of 1971 I was invited by President Nixon and Secretary Rogers Morton to become Assistant Secretary of Interior for Fish, Wildlife and National Parks.

Can you imagine? Being responsible for all of our national parks and wildlife refuges! To have the opportunity to help acquire millions of acres of the best remaining landscapes and ecosystems in our country for your and future generations! To face the challenge of protecting endangered species!

Needless to say, I accepted!

I was able to attract a world-class staff and set to work with the most astonishingly able and dedicated men and women who had been recruited by the Nixon Administration.

We accelerated and raised the wave of national environmental consciousness. The Democratic leadership of the Congress and incredible across-the-board collection of dedicated Republican environmentalists were determined to change the way the federal government made its decisions.

Tallahassee had been tough, but Washington was the Big League. Tallahassee was a marvelous training ground for Washington. I would not have survived five-plus years in Washington and been able to have as much of an impact if I had not had the five years of training in Florida's Capitol-and my four great years at Deerfield.

My foundation was well set-literally in stone. I had a vision of what could be accomplished. And as you can tell, I brought a sense of "passion" to my endeavors.

But that's the second point I wish to leave with you young ladies and gentlemen. As you go forth and develop your lives and careers-do something you love-do something you really love, do something that excites you, rewards you, and of course challenges you. That passion is what makes the setbacks, in life or business, only temporary, because you won't give up.

Learning doesn't stop when you leave here. It's a process you should encourage until the day you die. It's a form of endless growth.

My life's journey highlights the real significance of public service.

Our great country demands not only the very best candidates to serve in the Congress, but also to staff our government. There is no higher call than public service. It can seem a thankless task at times, but what higher reward than to help our country-and the citizens of Mother Earth-move forward and into the hands of the next generation.

No country can survive without a well trained, supportive bureaucracy, led by men and women who share convictions and are willing to give the time and energy to make the system not only work, but to work better.

My personal commitment-my passion-has been to change how Americans view our natural world-a world that cannot be measured in stock dividends or affixed with price tags.

How could any of you affix a price to the experience of walking through the great trees of Deerfield or Yosemite Valley? You-you-your generation must accelerate the change in our attitudes, continue to make environmentally tough-if not tougher decisions or your children will ask you the haunting question:

Who ate our tomorrows?

If I leave you with nothing more this memorable day in my life-it is that you find your niche and fill that niche with hard work and above all with passion. Both you, and all those around you, will be better for it.

I can't guarantee resurrection, so make good use of your time on Mother Earth.

I don't care what your personal interest might be-whether it be education, medicine, legal, or even finance-do it with commitment and passion.

If it is to make money and you are successful: REMEMBER, with wealth goes responsibility.

I was fortunate to serve as a Trustee of Deerfield Academy. I worked with men and women who shared my appreciation of this great school. Their lives-their successes-were built with a keen appreciation of this remarkable academy.

They gave many of the magnificent buildings that grace this campus. But, they gave much more-they have given, and continue to provide, spirit and vision in helping guide Deerfield forward to best meet your needs, and those of future students.

The Trustees and the Alumni Association raised the endowment that makes Deerfield Academy able to attract so many extraordinary faculty members and students and maintain these magnificent buildings and grounds, as they must be kept.

It's rumored that I'm reaching an age where one looks back at their past-I prefer to look forward to your futures.

I wish you good health.

I urge you to never forget you are part of the world's ecosystem-not its masters-but a crucial component. I beg of you to be knowledgeable-and engaged participants.

During troubled times, we should all remember Headmaster Boyden's two great admonitions:
"Look up to the hills, boys, look up to the hills".

And as "my" generations tide is turning out simultaneously with "your" generations tide flow in:
his challenge, "Finish up strong" is as pertinent as ever!

"God speed"!