Nathaniel Reed, retired Amherst College dean

NATHANIEL REED

The mysteries of faith and fishing flow through "Opening Day," a short story Nathaniel Reed wrote that hints at autobiography.

Skipping church for the first day of fishing season, which fell on a Sunday, Mr. Reed's young narrator found his guilt assuaged by his instructor, Paul, who saw in their pastime something that transcended the secular.

"God is not a fish, nor a fish God," Paul told his student, "but a fish is like God in many ways and can teach us about God." As for spending the day with a fishing instructor rather than a church rector, Paul said: "You come to each of us for guidance in our different fields. And each tells you, 'Seek and you shall find.' "

Whether seeking fish in distant rivers or contributions locally for his church, Mr. Reed found much in his 77 years. A former dean of freshmen at Amherst College, he died of cancer on Dec. 11, a few hours after moving from his house in Manchester-by-the-Sea to the Kaplan Family Hospice House in Danvers.

"I'm not sure if it was a true story of when he was a youngster, or if he just loved the similarities between his search for faith and his love of fishing," Mr. Reed's son, Timothy, of Southampton, N.Y., said of "Opening Day."

Childhood was not all fishing poles and clear streams for Mr. Reed. Illnesses kept him bedridden for years in his family's house in Dedham, where tutors filled the gaps in his schooling and his five older siblings regaled him with tales from the outside world - including stories of serving abroad during World War II.

"They kept his imagination active with war stories," said his daughter Priscilla Reed Anderson of Boston. "I think those years made him want to go out and enjoy life all the more when he was better."

Because of the illnesses, Mr. Reed graduated later than his contemporaries, in 1951 from Phillips Academy and in 1955 from Yale University. He also received a master's and a doctorate from Yale, the latter while he already was teaching at Amherst College. Soon, he added dean of freshmen to his duties teaching American studies.

"As the dean, he wasn't just called upon for academic questions or problems," his daughter said. "If the students were having troubles dealing with being in college or being away from home, they would turn to him for personal problems as well."

While an undergraduate at Yale, Mr. Reed was introduced to Dabney Freeman. They fell in love, but kept their engagement secret for two years until she had graduated from college. When she died in 1999, they had been married for 44 years.

At Amherst College, Mr. Reed and his family lived on campus. He rode a bicycle to work when weather permitted, his children said, and became involved in local politics, serving as a selectman.

He left the college after 17 years and became executive director of the Massachusetts Foundation on the Humanities and Public Policy. The small organization, based in Amherst, handed out grants for projects designed to make disciplines including literature, religion, and philosophy come alive through endeavors such as films and exhibits.

In 1984, Mr. Reed spoke to the Globe about the foundation's contributions: "Sitting watching TV, you don't normally ask, 'What's the history of that issue?' We don't normally say, 'That reminds me of a great work of literature that throws light on this issue.' And we don't call up a humanist and say, 'We have an ethical question, would you come down and help us?' "

When Mr. Reed retired from the foundation in 1985, he learned to fly and bought a Piper Warrior. As recently as Labor Day weekend, he flew to visit his son's family in New York.

Mr. Reed also indulged in a couple of earthbound pursuits: fly-fishing and writing. Having spent most of his life in academia, Mr. Reed had to set aside that approach to writing as he turned to novels, short stories, and poetry.

"It's the opposite of the academic writing he would have done. It's all about his emotions and inner feelings," his son said. "I used to say, 'Dad, why are you doing this? Do you want to get published?' And he said, 'No I just want to write because it's therapeutic.' "

Just as comforting was standing in rivers, fly-fishing across North America and as far away as Chile and Mongolia. Sometimes, as in the short story "Opening Day," Mr. Reed combined his inner, writing life and his energetic outdoor life.

In 1994, he and his wife moved to Manchester-by-the-Sea and Mr. Reed began volunteering at St. John's Episcopal Church in Beverly, serving as senior warden and vestryman. He was one of the parishioners instrumental in helping raise funds to update and expand the church. The reception after his funeral today will be held in Celebration Hall - an addition he helped make possible.

And though Mr. Reed spent a lifetime trying to help others, Timothy Reed believes his father's involvement with St. John's may have been prompted by a spiritual seeking, much like the young narrator in "Opening Day."

"I think that after Mom passed away, he was looking for love and to be loved," Mr. Reed's son said. "He was so good at loving other people and emanating love, but he wasn't as good at being loved. I think that's common for a lot of men and older men in particular. He said he enjoyed being in church and feeling loved by God. He loved singing the hymns and feeling God's love flow into himself."

In addition to his son and daughter, Mr. Reed leaves another daughter, Wrenn of Brookline; three granddaughters; and a grandson.

A memorial service will be held at 2 p.m. today in St. John's Episcopal Church in Beverly. Burial will be in Southampton Cemetery in Southampton, N.Y.