Perry R. Hagenstein, at 77; forestry specialist and hiker often seen in Wayland

Perry R. Hagenstein chose a photo of himself laughing for this year's holiday card, saying: ''I'm going to put that photo in because that's how I want people to remember me.'' (lynne lipcon)

A neighbor called Perry R. Hagenstein Wayland's last pedestrian - he strode all his life along streets and trails, through prairies and forests.

From the Minnesota farmland his ancestors homesteaded, to the Arkansas woods he worked as a young forester, to the 4,000-foot peaks he hiked in New Hampshire, Dr. Hagenstein covered a lot of ground in addition to his daily jaunts through Wayland, where he lived for nearly four decades.

"My dad was a man of habit and he did not stray far from his schedule," said his daughter, Elizabeth of Nantucket. "Every day he walked down from his house into town. He walked to the Post Office, the bank, the library, and he had people he wanted to see. He probably felt everybody should be walking - it's not necessary to take your car, it's not that far."

A respected scholar of natural resource policy and economics, Dr. Hagenstein died of cancer on Dec. 27 at his Wayland home. He was 77.

Three generations removed from German immigrants who settled in Minnesota to farm, he grew up in a family of modest means in St. Paul. His parents left school after finishing the eighth grade, and his father was a chauffeur for a well-to-do family.

The first in his family to attend college, Dr. Hagenstein graduated in 1952 from the University of Minnesota with a bachelor's degree in forestry, in 1953 from Yale University with a master's degree in forestry, and in 1963 from the University of Michigan with a doctorate in forestry economics. Through studies and work, he traveled widely in the United States, living in Arkansas, Maryland, Michigan, and Pennsylvania.

And yet, the places and people of his childhood remained emotional touchstones. In later years, Dr. Hagenstein brought his children, one by one, to see the schools he attended, the houses where family members lived, and the land their ancestors farmed.

A few months before he died, he spoke on the phone with a friend from high school, telling his daughter afterward that he was "always a little bit hesitant to tell people from his childhood how much of an intellectual life he led."

Dr. Hagenstein's academic accomplishments "certainly changed the legacy of the family from being slightly removed from frontier, farming people, to this pursuit of intellectual accomplishment," said his son Jonathan of Sandwich.

Those who met Dr. Hagenstein professionally encountered a man whose high standards rubbed off on everyone around him.

"He had a very, very lively mind, so he often would be verbally jousting and challenging people's intellect, questioning assumptions, and slaying sacred cows," said his son Randy of Anchorage.

"When people were around my father, they sort of had to raise their game a little bit," said his son Edwin of Maynard. "He paid attention to things."

People paid attention to him, too. Through the years, he served as a research forester in Arkansas, as principal economist at the Northeastern Forest Experiment Station in Pennsylvania, as senior policy analyst for the US Public Land Law Review Commission, as a research fellow at Harvard University, and as executive director of the New England Natural Resources Center in Boston. When he died, he was president of the Institute for Forest Analysis, Planning, and Policy, a nonprofit research and education organization.

"I think he was viewed by his colleagues as having made substantial and lasting contributions," Randy said.

Dr. Hagenstein served in the Army from 1953 to 1956. While stationed in Germany, he attended a close friend's wedding and met Ann Hill, whom he married in 1956.

Though he had a discerning intellect, Dr. Hagenstein also "was always quick with a joke and quick to spoof on someone, in a good-spirited way," Randy said. "He was a great collector of jokes that he passed on with generosity."

Dr. Hagenstein also "would like to be remembered for his long interest in tennis," said Jonathan, who added that his father played two or three times a week with the same group in Wayland for more than 30 years and participated annually in a local Labor Day tournament.

After his wife died in 1995, Dr. Hagenstein's thoughts increasingly turned to the legacy he would leave. Along with taking his children to visit places that figured in family history, he made sure the subject Minnesota found a home on their bookshelves.

"He was a very literary man and gave books as presents all the time," his daughter said. "More recently, in the past 10 years, he was giving books that were set in St. Paul or by writers who lived in St. Paul."

Dr. Hagenstein wrote letters to his six grandchildren explaining their family heritage and worked with his daughter to craft a message for what would be his last Christmas card. He chose a photo of himself laughing - the one that accompanies this obituary - and asked his daughter to make it part of the card, saying: "I'm going to put that photo in because that's how I want people to remember me."

Among the lines on the Christmas card are these:

Cancer can change life, but it can't change the gentleness with which seasons pass

Winter is upon us again

Remember me by this picture

"It was his farewell, and he knew at the time," his daughter said. "We did this on the Monday before Christmas."

In the days since Dr. Hagenstein died, his children have "reflected on his character, his sense of responsibility, and the obligation to give back - whether to give back his profession, to give back philanthropically in donations, or to give back in his time and service," Randy said.

"Although his background was fairly humble, I think my father thought of himself as very fortunate," Edwin said. "And that good fortune was part of his sense of responsibility."

In addition to his three sons and daughter, Dr. Hagenstein leaves four granddaughters and two grandsons.

A memorial service will be held today at 3 p.m. in First Parish, a Unitarian Universalist church in Wayland. Burial will be private.