Creeping over fields of green Remembering the
faces The moments unseen The hands that built
a dynasty The vision in their eyes Echoes in
the auction bar Beneath an endless sky This is
the bull buy Turn the bar Welcome back to the
podcast. I'm your host, and today I have one
heck of a story to share with you. It's about
a bull whose impact on our industry is so profound
that it'll blow your mind. Picture this. Every
single registered Holstein on earth today. Every
single one from the high -tech dairies of California
to the pastures of New Zealand. From the ancient
dairy regions of Europe to the emerging farms
of Asia, they all trace back to one bull. One
bull from a modest Wisconsin farm. His name was
Johanna Ragapple Pabst, and this is his incredible
story. Now before I dive in, let me paint you
a picture that'll give you goosebumps. Imagine
a Western Union boy pedaling his bicycle through
the crisp Quebec countryside on an April morning
in 1926. Telegraph wires are humming overhead
as spring awakens the landscape around Hudson
Heights. When he finally turns up that winding
tree -shaded drive to Mount Victoria Farms, gravel
crunching beneath his wheels, he's carrying 15
words that would literally reshape Holstein history
forever. Johanna Ragapple Pabst, sold for $15
,000. Congratulations, O .G. Clark. $15 ,000
in 1926. That's over $200 ,000 in today's money
folks. But this wasn't just about buying another
champion bull. This was about capturing lightning
in a bottle. The cornerstone of a vision so scientifically
precise and audaciously ambitious that it bordered
on the impossible. Let's rewind to where it all
began, because every great story has humble beginnings.
We're talking about a modest farm, three miles
north of Hartford, Wisconsin, in the winter of
1921. Philip Linker, at 69 years old, is feeling
the weight of nearly seven decades spent working
the land. He's built a respected 173 -acre Holstein
operation, but he's gradually passing it to younger
hands. Specifically, his son -in -law, Herbert
Lepien, who married Linker's daughter Della and
brought fresh energy to the partnership. Now
here's where it gets interesting. On January
24, 1921, in a barn filled with the familiar
sounds of a working dairy, you know, the gentle
lowing of cattle, the rhythmic swish of tails,
the soft thud of hooves on wooden floors. Something
extraordinary was taking shape. Princess Johanna
Ragapple Pontiac, barely two years old herself
and heavy with her first calf, was shifting restlessly
in the deep straw bedding. When her labor began,
no one could have predicted they were witnessing
the birth of a legend. The calf that slipped
into the world was a bull, black and white, sturdy
and alert. with eyes that seemed to hold unusual
intelligence. In that lamplit barn, as Herbert
Lepion toweled the newborn dry and helped him
to his unsteady feet, there was no fanfare, no
proclamation of greatness. Just another Holstein
calf taking his first breaths on a Wisconsin
dairy farm. But folks, what happened next revealed
the true measure of both cow and calf. Fresh
from delivering her son, Princess Johanna Ragapple
Pontiac stepped into the test stall for her seven
-day official trial. In that week, as winter
winds howled across the Wisconsin countryside,
she produced 26 pounds of butter equivalent,
a staggering performance for any cow, let alone
a first -calf heifer. The numbers told a story
that every cattleman understood. This young mother
possessed something special, and if genetics
held true, her bull calf might possess it too.
Eight months later, On a warm summer day, when
the corn stood tall in Wisconsin fields, County
Agent Milton Button paid what seemed like a routine
visit to the Linker Lepion operation. Now Button's
job was to help farmers improve their herds,
and his trained eye could spot potential where
others saw just another calf. When he watched
that young bull move across the pasture, the
way he carried himself, the breadth of his chest,
the length of the stride, something just clicked.
That's a good bull, Button told Herbert Lepien
that day. Those words would prove absolutely
prophetic. Someone should buy that calf. Six
miles south of Hartford, Joe Peek was building
dreams of his own. His farmhouse perched on a
hillside southeast of town, looking out over
the rolling countryside toward Holy Hill, that
religious shrine that drew pilgrims from across
the region. Peek had recently committed himself
to Holstein Cattle. purchasing 14 heifer calves
at a Fond du Lac sale. Youngsters ranging from
six weeks to eight months old, costing him anywhere
from $60 to $150 each. Like any beginning breeder
worth his salt, Peek knew his next decision would
shape his entire program, selecting a herd sire.
Feeling the weight of inexperience, he enlisted
Milton Button's guidance. Together they canvassed
the countryside, inspecting herds and evaluating
prospects. When Button recommended the Lepian
calf, Peek didn't hesitate. The young bull who
arrived at Peek Spring Stock Farm that summer
stepped into a world where excellence was expected
and hard work was the only currency that mattered.
In the white farmhouse kitchen, nine -year -old
Anna Peek was already mixing warm milk for calves
on cold mornings, learning the rhythms of farm
life that would shape her character. She had
no way of knowing that one of those calves The
gentle giant who followed her around the barnyard
like an oversized pet would one day change the
world. Anna would later remember a detail that
makes me smile. Do you pour the warm water into
the milk or the milk into the warm water when
feeding calves? She would ask visitors decades
later, her eyes still bright with the memory,
if you do it wrong, the calf gets diarrhea. Such
was the practical wisdom of farm children in
an era when every detail mattered. Joe Peek had
ambitious plans for his young bull. Each fall,
he would rent a boxcar, outfit it with 2x6s screwed
into the walls to secure the cattle, partition
all stalls, and install water and feed barrels.
This rolling barn would carry his hopes and dreams
to county fairs across the upper Midwest, where
cattle were judged not just on production records,
but on that indefinable quality called type,
the visual embodiment of dairy perfection. At
Walworth County Fair in 1922, as summer heat
shimmered over the show rings and the air hung
heavy with the scent of cattle and hay, Johanna
Rag Apple Pabst made his public debut. Judge
A .C. Oosterhuis examined the senior yearling
class with the careful attention of a man who
understood that his decisions could make or break
a breeder's dreams. When he pointed to the bull
from Hartford, placing him first and naming him
junior champion, Joe Peek felt that first flutter
of vindication. But, Wisconsin State Fair later
that season brought humility, fifth place in
a class of seven, a showing that might have discouraged
a lesser man. As Peek led his bull from the ring
that day, his jaw set with determination. He
turned to Herbert Lepien, whose own bull had
placed second, and made a declaration that would
echo through Holstein history. This is a good
bull. I'll get him in shape next year, and then
I'll show the boys a thing or two. And boy, did
he ever show them. True to his word, Peek transformed
his bull into a phenomenon. The 1923 season saw
Johanna Rag Apple Pabst emerge as something unprecedented
in Holstein circles. At Illinois State Fair,
as the orchestra played and spectators filled
the grandstand, the massive bull from Wisconsin
moved into the ring with surprising grace for
his size. When the judge's final decision came,
grand champion. The crowd erupted. The same scene
played out at Waterloo Dairy Cattle Congress
and the Pacific International Livestock Exposition.
But here's what captured hearts across dairy
country. The tradition that developed around
these victories. Wherever Joe Peek or his mentor
John Hetz led Johanna Ragapple Pabst into a show
ring, The house orchestra would strike up on
Wisconsin, the state anthem. As those familiar
notes filled the arena and the black and white
giant stepped onto the tan bark, spectators would
rise to their feet, caught up in the pageantry
of it all. The 1924 season brought something
that had never been seen before in Holstein competition.
Absolute perfection. Johanna Ragapple Pabst went
undefeated in both class and grand championship
competition. Wisconsin State Fair, Illinois State
Fair, Waterloo, the National Dairy Show, all
fell before his supremacy like dominoes in a
perfectly orchestrated game. Too thick in the
pants, his detractors muttered in the barns after
the shows, but nobody seemed able to beat him.
His consistency was remarkable, not just in winning,
but in his demeanor. While other bulls of his
era were notorious for their unpredictable temperament,
requiring skilled handlers and constant vigilance,
Pabst had become the peak family pet. as gentle
with nine -year -old Anna as he was commanding
in the show ring. Now here's where the story
gets really exciting. While Johanna Ragapple
Pabst was dominating show rings from Wisconsin
to Oregon, his first daughters in Joe Peek's
modest herd were quietly revolutionizing expectations
about what a bull could transmit to his offspring.
Every daughter that freshened stepped into the
test stall, and their performance was extraordinary.
They averaged over 18 pounds of butter in seven
days as junior two -year -olds, with two exceeding
25 pounds, figures that ranked among the very
best of their time. More significantly, these
daughters were consistently testing 4 % butterfat
or better, inheriting that remarkable trait from
their grandam. In an era when most Holstein herds
struggled to maintain butterfat percentages above
3 .5%, 4 % milk was like finding gold. This combination
of show ring dominance and proven transmitting
ability created perfect market conditions. Bulls
with such show credentials were rare. Bulls with
daughters proving themselves in the test barn
were rarer still. Bulls with both? Virtually
non -existent. Word spread through the Holstein
community with the efficiency of a telegraph
network. In farm kitchens across the Dairy Belt,
breeders poured over Holstein Friesian World
and Farmer's Advocate. Studying the production
reports and show results that told the story
of the bull from Hartford, 400 miles northeast,
in the quiet evenings at Mount Victoria Farms,
Thomas Bassett McCauley could often be found
in his study, lamplight illuminating the pages
of Holstein herd books and back issues of agricultural
publications. This Montreal insurance magnate
approached his hobby with the same analytical
precision that had made him president of Sun
Life Assurance Company. one of North America's
largest financial institutions. His experiments
with corn breeding had opened his eyes to possibilities
that most cattle breeders of his era couldn't
even imagine. Between 1924 and 1928, Macaulay
maintained between 100 and 170 separate corn
plots annually, each planted with seed from a
single selected ear, each carefully isolated
to prevent cross -pollination. His methodical
approach grounded in Mendelian genetics, had
convinced him that specific, predictable characteristics
could be developed through strategic selection
and inbreeding. If it worked with corn, Macaulay
reasoned, with the logic of a mathematician,
why not with cattle? His vision was breathtaking
in its precision. To develop a Holstein bloodline
genetically pure for three crucial traits — superior
show type, excellent udders, and a consistent
butterfat test of 4 % or better. This wasn't
the casual dream of a gentleman farmer. This
was a scientifically designed project that would
require the same methodical approach that had
guided his insurance career. To evaluate Johanna
Ragapple Pabst firsthand, McCauley dispatched
Joseph I. Chandler to the modest farmstead near
Hartford. Chandler's train pulled into Hartford
on a crisp Wisconsin morning. and the short drive
to the Peak Farm revealed the stark contrast
between his urban Montreal background and this
rural heartland. At Peak Springs Stock Farm,
with its modest white farmhouse overlooking the
countryside, Chandler found himself face -to
-face with the bull whose reputation had traveled
over 1 ,000 miles. What he discovered exceeded
even Macaulay's optimistic expectations. Here
was the Top Show Bull of the Day. barely five
years old and fit for many more years of service
his massive frame spoke of masculine power while
his gentle demeanor revealed a temperament ideally
suited for handling but it was the data that
convinced chandler's business mind upwards of
a dozen daughters averaging four percent test
on official work all under ordinary farm conditions
colonel o .g clark's holstein classic was conceived
as more than just an auction It was the breed's
first major promotional extravaganza, designed
to capture national attention and elevate the
entire Holstein industry. With 450 head cataloged,
it was the largest sale in volume to that time,
averaging $391 per head in an era when many good
cows sold for less than $200. The sale venue
buzzed with excitement as cattlemen gathered
from across North America Gourmet meals accompanied
by orchestra music followed each day's selling,
creating an atmosphere more reminiscent of a
society gathering than a farm auction. But everyone
understood what they were witnessing. History
in the making. When Johanna Ragapple Pabst's
moment came, the arena fell silent except for
the familiar strains of On, Wisconsin, as Joe
Peek led his champion into the ring for the final
time. The bidding began conservatively. but quickly
escalated as the significance of the moment became
clear. When the hammer finally fell at $15 ,000,
the assembled crowd rose as one, giving three
lusty cheers for Canada. It was a record price
that wouldn't be matched until the wartime boom
of 1942, but here's a detail that reveals the
human drama. Twelve -year -old Ellis Knutson,
hired to care for cattle at the sale, overheard
Colonel Clark's blunt response when Joe Peek
suggested reducing the commission because of
the publicity. Nonsense. On the last $5 ,000,
Chandler and I were the only two bidding. When
the train carrying Johanna Ragapple Pabst pulled
into Hudson Heights Station in April 1926, it
carried more than just another expensive bull.
It carried the future of the Holstein breed.
Perched on its wooded plateau overlooking Lake
of Two Mountains, Mount Victoria commanded a
view that had captivated T .B. Macaulay when
he first purchased the property in 1899. Macaulay
had prepared for this moment with characteristic
precision. The bull was housed in a special,
open -faced, two -story barn built specifically
for him, situated in a small paddock north of
the main garnyard. From his quarters, Johanna
Ragapple Pabst could survey the rolling Quebec
countryside like a monarch overseeing his domain.
a fitting metaphor for what he would become.
The breeding strategy Macaulay implemented was
as methodical as his corn experiments. Around
the Mount Victoria cow stable, Macaulay could
be seen with his trademark index cards, each
containing numbers, flowcharts, and diagrams
pertaining to individual herd members. His actuarial
background had taught him that complex problems
required systematic data collection and analysis.
He approached genetics like an insurance calculation.
seeking to reduce risk by concentrating proven
genetics while tracking every variable that might
affect outcomes. The offspring were collectively
called Rag Apples, with individual names typically
beginning Montvic Rag Apple, followed by a fourth
name. Before many years had passed, any Holstein
breeder hearing Rag Apple would correctly assume
the reference was to a descendant of Johanna
Rag Apple Pabst. What made Johanna Rag Apple
Pabst genetically potent wasn't accident, it
was the result of deliberate line breeding strategies.
His pedigree featured six crosses to the dominant
sire Pontiac Corndyke and four crosses to another
titan, Henger Voldekol. Approximately 36 % of
his genetic inheritance derived directly from
these four exceptional sires, a concentration
of proven genetics that dramatically increased
the likelihood his offspring would inherit and
transmit desirable traits. The results exceeded
even Macaulay's ambitious expectations. Daughter
after daughter emerged with the combination of
traits he sought – superior type, excellent udders,
and 4 % or better butterfat test. Sons proved
equally valuable, with bulls like Montvik Pathfinder,
Montvik Chieftain, and dozens of others carrying
their sire's genetic potency to herds across
North America. Johanna Ragapple Papp's life at
Mount Victoria was productive but destined to
be brief. The end came suddenly in late 1933.
At 12 years of age, while moving in his paddock
overlooking the Quebec countryside he'd called
home for seven years, the Great Bull broke his
leg at the stifle. The injury was so severe that
euthanasia was the only humane option. By then,
however, his influence was already spreading
far beyond the borders of Mount Victoria. When
the Mount Victoria herd was dispersed in 1942,
all but two of the 89 lots offered were home
-bred descendants of Johanna Ragapple Pabst.
The dispersal scattered his progeny across North
America like seeds from a rare plant, each carrying
the potential to influence Holstein genetics
for generations to come. Now here's where this
story becomes absolutely mind -blowing. In 1958,
when TB, Macaulay's memory was honored by the
dairy industry with the hanging of his portrait
in the Pioneer Room at the Dairy Shrine Club.
It was announced that over 90 % of Canadian Holsteins
were descendants of Mount Victoria breeding.
But that was just the beginning, folks. Today,
nearly a century after Johanna Ragapple Papps
stepped off that train at Hudson Heights, the
scope of his genetic influence defies comprehension.
No registered Holstein exists anywhere on earth
that does not trace back to this bull. None.
Not in the high -tech dairies of California's
Central Valley. Not in the grass -fed systems
of New Zealand. Not in the ancient dairy regions
of Europe, where the breed originated. Not in
the emerging dairy industries of Asia and South
America. This represents something unprecedented
in livestock breeding. the complete genetic transformation
of a global breed by a single individual. In
every barn, in every pasture, in every milking
parlor where Holstein cattle convert feed to
milk, the genetic essence of Johanna Ragapple
Pabst flows through their veins. Walk into any
modern dairy operation today, and you're witnessing
the living fulfillment of TB McCauley's vision.
The 4 % butterfat that he pursued with such scientific
dedication is now routine. The combination of
type, utter quality, and production that seemed
so ambitious in 1926 has become the baseline
from which modern Holstein breeding programs
advance toward even greater goals. In a basement
office of a modern dairy farm, a young breeder
studies genomic evaluations on her computer screen,
making mating decisions with precision that would
have amazed even T .B. Macaulay. The technology
is revolutionary. SNP chips that read genetic
code, computer algorithms that predict production
potential, satellite -guided feed delivery systems,
robotic milking equipment that operates around
the clock. Yet the fundamental principles that
guide her decisions echo directly back to those
index cards Macaulay carried around his cow stable.
Identify superior genetics, concentrate then
through strategic breeding, measure the results,
and build systematically toward clearly defined
goals. Behind every great bull stands a network
of human decisions, insights, and commitments
that make greatness possible. Philip Blinker's
dedication to quality bulls, even without formal
testing programs. Herbert Lepien's foresight
and his eye for a superior sire. Milton Button's
recognition of exceptional potential in an eight
-month -old calf. Joe Peek's relentless dedication
to show ring excellence. His willingness to invest
in fitting and travel. and his prophetic words
about showing the boys a thing or two. His daughter
Anna's childhood memories of feeding a gentle
giant who would follow her around the barnyard,
never knowing she was caring for a future legend.
Most significantly, T .B. McCauley's revolutionary
vision, an insurance man's mathematical approach
to genetics, combined with unlimited resources
and unwavering commitment to specific, measurable
goals. From a modest Wisconsin farm to global
genetic dominance, From a record -breaking $15
,000 sale to influence worth billions in modern
breeding programs. From one man's scientific
vision to an industry that feeds the world. The
story of Johanna Rag Apple Pabst reminds us that
sometimes the most profound changes begin with
the simplest recognition of excellence. This
is a good bull. Joe Peek said after that disappointing
fifth -place showing at Wisconsin State Fair
in 1922. In barns around the world today, as
Holstein calves take their first steps and farmers
plan their breeding programs for the next generation,
that recognition continues. Every Holstein alive
today carries his blood. Every glass of milk,
every slice of cheese, every dairy product consumed
anywhere on earth bears his influence. The bull
who changed everything continues to change everything,
one generation at a time, one calf at a time.
one farm at a time his genetic legacy flowing
through the veins of the breed that feeds the
world so there you have it bullvine family the
incredible story of johanna rag apple papst the
bull whose genetic fingerprint is literally in
every holstein on earth today from that cold
january morning in a wisconsin barn to the global
dairy industry that feeds billions of people
His legacy reminds us that excellence, once recognized
and properly developed, has the power to transform
the world. Next time you see a Holstein cow,
remember this story. Remember that gentle giant
who followed nine -year -old Anna Peek around
the barnyard. Remember T .B. Macaulay's scientific
vision. Remember Joe Peek's determination to
show the boys a thing or two. Thanks for joining
me on this incredible journey through Holstein
history. Until next time, keep breeding for excellence.
And remember, sometimes the most extraordinary
legacies start with the simplest observation.
This is a good bull. Tell the tale, tell the
tale, the Beaumont legends live here.