The dairy industry lost one of its giants in 2020, with the passing of Dr. Sam Leadley.
Sam was an undisputed, global expert on dairy calf and heifer raising. He passed away July 2, 2020 of esophageal cancer at the age of 85. In typical “Sam” fashion, his departure was quiet and unassuming, with little fanfare and the briefest possible obituary.
I had the pleasure of corresponding regularly with Sam, to tap into his treasure trove of tips and resources for raising better dairy herd replacements, over the past 20-or-so years. In other words, I started working with Sam when he was at an age at which most people are easing their way into retirement. He, on the other hand, was just getting warmed up.
You may not have known Sam, but if you raise dairy calves, you have no doubt benefited from the practices and protocols that he influenced. He was a teacher, an academician and a leader, who could transform the most technical information into the most practical application through his creativity and pragmatism. He is well-remembered for simulating “bacteria soup” in liquid calf rations using a slurry of coffee grounds, and utilizing frozen pop bottles to quickly cool colostrum.
Another example was his translation of bacterial counts and thermoregulation via his infamous “knee test” – if you knelt down in a calf hutch or onto a bedded pack and your knees got wet, you needed more bedding. He also eschewed academic jargon, always striking “neonate” from a line of text when regular, old “calf” would do.
One of our most extensive journeys together was working collaboratively on the development, and later the updating, of the Dairy Calf and Heifer Association’s “Gold Standards” for calf and heifer rearing. This effort brought together many of the greatest minds in the industry. But if you’ve ever written a lengthy document via committee, you know the process can be like pushing a rope up a hill in the middle of a hurricane. Thanks to Sam, that was never the case with this project.
He had the innate ability to achieve consensus through friendly debate; genuine consideration of varying opinions; and affable compromise. He didn’t sweat the small stuff, either professionally or personally, and he had a natural way of helping those around him adopt that same perspective.
Sam could hold his own in a room full of academics, veterinarians or dairy producers. But it always was the producers he favored best, and for whom he had the utmost respect. His credibility stemmed from not just from his PhD education, but from his own experience in the trenches, having worked as the calf manager at Noblehurst Farms in New York for 12 years.
As Calf and Heifer Management Consultant at Attica Veterinary Associates for the past two decades, Sam had regular contact with the men and women who still raise calves and heifers on a daily basis. He would maintain he learned more from them than they did from him, and he shared that knowledge in consulting and speaking gigs all over the world. A prolific writer, he routinely parsed every imaginable calf and heifer rearing subject with his own practical interpretation in his “Calving Ease” newsletter and “Calves with Sam” blog – always accessible free of charge to the producer, of course.
Sam wasn’t just an icon, he was an adjective. It was common to hear someone describe feeding equipment sanitized to “Sam Leadley standards,” or colostrum stored according to the “Sam Leadley process.”
Any amount of time spent with Sam was punctuated with fascinating stories and sincere curiosity that made you feel simultaneously enlightened and appreciated. When a volcanic eruption in Iceland left him grounded in Europe at the end of a speaking tour in 2010, he embraced that extra time to make more friends on the other side of the pond.
He also wasn’t fixated on his professional duties, which were merely a singular facet of his abundant life. Rather than talk about his knowledge or accomplishments, he would much rather discuss his forays into baking bread; serving on the local library board; and volunteering as a tax preparer for the less fortunate.
One of the few times I saw Sam dig in his heels on an issue was when the hotel venue was offering the DCHA board a colossal deal to hold its annual conference during Holy Week. Sam politely but firmly dissented, noting that the conference could proceed, but he would not be there due to commitments at home. There were a few things on which he did not compromise.
In later years, Sam acquired a traveling companion in his lovely wife, Esther. It was a pleasure to finally meet her in person, after so many years of hearing Sam humbly describe his unabashed love and admiration for her.
Likewise, he reveled in discussing his four sons, their wives and his many grandchildren. Sam expressed great familial pride without bragging, and relished the times when they all were gathered together.
Fortunately for all, Sam’s sage advice and meticulous analysis remains in the large body of written work he amassed, include a “Calves with Sam” entry he published just weeks before his death. More importantly, we can carry on the spirit and quiet grace of a gentle soul with a servant’s heart, who made everyone feel as if they had just met up with an old friend.
So for now, Sam, the calves are fed, the feeding equipment is sanitized, and the colostrum is tucked in the freezer (properly chilled in advance, to be sure). Thank you and rest in peace, dear friend.
