Paul Reichardt sets his book onto the conference room table as seven of UAF's newest faculty members take a seat. Most have brought copies of the book, and all have come to talk about it with the provost.

The day's discussion in this third floor room in Signer's Hall circles around Donald Kennedy's "Academic Duty." It's a book Reichardt has bought first-year faculty for almost five years.

Reichardt, 62, will probably only get to do this once more before retiring as provost sometime next year. He's seen nearly 24 years pass since arriving at UAF and eight years since becoming the chief academic officer on campus. But he still remembers what being new to the university.

"I knew I was going to teach some classes and do some research, but I assumed that was about it," he tells the groups.

A few of the new professors chuckle.

It's a busy day for Reichardt. He got in at 6:30 a.m. to check email and have some breathing time. With the semester wrapping up, he doesn't expect to leave until 8 p.m.

If he were asked as an entering college freshman in 1961 what career he wanted, he probably would have said engineering, not academics. At least that was his intent when he enrolled at Davidson College, a small North Carolina liberal arts institution.

A chemistry course changed his mind. The world of organic compounds soon consumed his studies.

In the summers, he worked at a St. Louis meatpacking house.

"I've said there were two good things about it," Reichardt says. "One, it paid quite well compared to other summer jobs for college students, and the other is, come middle of every August, it reminded me why I was in college."

In 1965, Reichardt went to graduate school at the University of Wisconsin Madison to study organic chemistry. During his first month, he met his future wife Terry, who was a student in a lab he was assistant teaching.

"I kind of kept track of her until I was no longer her teacher," Reichardt says, smirking.

During this time he became more and more interested in pursuing an academic career and stayed at the university to earn a Ph.D. in 1969.

He briefly did post-doctoral research at Yale but also applied for several jobs, including at UAF. He and his wife wanted to see Alaska, so he sent a letter on an off chance to the university to see if any positions were open.

"For her it was sort of National Geographic, for me it was Jack London," he says.

He didn't hear back and instead wound up at Ohio State University in 1971.

"There were some great things about that job, but Columbus, Ohio didn't really suit me or my wife," he says. "And seeing a big university from that standpoint made me realize that I really appreciated a smaller environment."

Still wanting to see Alaska, the Reichardts scraped together enough money to backpack and canoe in the farthest north state in the summer of 1971. When their month-long trip ended, they headed back to Columbus.

Reichardt's first year at Ohio State was nearing an end. On his desk sat the contract for the next year, unsigned. He didn't know what to do.

A letter then arrived in the mail forwarded on from Yale. UAF had written back, and it wanted to hire him.

In his research, Reichardt focused on chemical ecology and discovered that birch trees use small toxic molecules to defend against munching rabbits.

In 1990, the dean of the College of Natural Sciences left, and Reichardt was appointed interim dean, his first experience in administration.

He saw the position as a way to help other faculty, so he decided to apply for the job full-time. He kept teaching while working as dean but handed-off most of his research. He later served as the dean for the College of Science, Engineering and Mathematics.

The early '90s were dark times for the university. Many of the buildings on campus suffered from deferred maintenance.

Among them was the newly built Natural Science Building. The legislature had provided enough money to build it, but no funds were given to buy furnishings or equipment.

It sat unused, but Reichardt as dean wanted to get it open. The college sponsored a science fair outside the closed building and circulated petitions for more money, among other tactics.

UAF soon received $3 million to finish furnishing it, he says. It opened in September 1995.

In 1998, provost John Keating left for a chancellor position at the University of Wisconsin-Parkside. Reichardt applied for the job and got it.

"My heart is still in the classroom and the laboratory," Reichardt wrote in a letter to the Faculty Senate in September 1998. "That's my frame of reference for all my decisions and actions. I hope, that no matter how much we may disagree on certain issues, we will always be able to frame the debate in terms of what's best for UAF and its students."

His colleagues characterize him as a hardworking man who balances humor with hard choices.

"Paul's one of the most ethical, well-intended persons I have ever met," says Joan Braddock, dean of the College of Natural Sciences and Mathematics.

"He's able to find the humor in most situations," says John Aspnes, acting dean of the College of Engineering and Mines, "and that's important for all of us."

Reichardt looks forward to retiring. He misses participating in community service, and he wants to spend more time outdoors. He and his wife enjoy cross-country skiing and caribou hunting, and he imagines he'll help Terry with her gardening.

He also recently became a grandfather. His oldest daughter Laura in Minnesota now has two adopted sons, and his other daughter, Rebecca, has a one-year-old in Anchorage.

Reichardt's day is nearing a close now. He glances out his third floor window in Signer's Hall. Outside, the Bunnell and Duckering Buildings stand, just as they did when he replaced Keating as provost.

"All the buildings outside this window were falling apart," he says. "It's been really neat to be a part of this recovery and going beyond where we are."