In the rolling hills of Martinsburg, Pa., the morning air in Blair County carries the steady hum of a legacy in motion. For Kate Musselman, that hum is more than just background noise; it is the heartbeat of Kulp Family Dairy LLC, an operation that has grown from a modest 30-cow herd in 1973 to a 3,000-cow powerhouse today.
Musselman represents the third generation of a family that has farming woven into its DNA for as long as they can trace their history. Alongside her grandmother; her father, Phil; her brother, Kyle; and her sister, Musselman is a co-owner of a business that manages 6,500 acres and milks across three different sites. But as the dairy stands on the precipice of its largest expansion yet — aiming for 4,500 cows and a state-of-the-art 100-stall rotary parlor — Musselman’s story is about more than just numbers. It’s about the delicate balance of family, the evolution of management and the unique perspective of a young woman in a traditionally male-dominated world.
A Foundation of Grit and Ground Rules
The story of the Martinsburg site began when Musselman’s grandparents moved from Montgomery County in the early ‘70s. They arrived with little more than 30 cows and a few pieces of machinery. Growth was steady but disciplined. By the time Phil returned to the farm in 1996 after a stint teaching in Texas, the herd had grown to 200. Under his leadership, the farm broke ground on a new facility in 1999, quickly scaling to 1,200 cows by 2001.
Kate and her siblings grew up in the shadow of this growth, but they weren’t just observers.
“From a young age, we were given the opportunity to be involved,” Musselman recalls.
By age 10, Musselman and her siblings were responsible for an old bank barn housing calves and weaned heifers. They followed a chore chart, learned to drive skid loaders and balanced their farm duties with their homeschooling.
“I think that homeschooling honestly contributed tremendously to how my siblings and I worked together as a team, even today,” she says.
By 1 p.m., the schoolbooks were closed and the real-world lessons began. Whether it was lawn maintenance, scraping satellite heifer facilities or covering bunkers during harvest, the work ethic was forged in the Pennsylvania soil.
The Two-Year Rule
When Musselman graduated from Penn State Altoona in 2020, she didn’t just walk into an ownership role. Her father maintains a strict two-year rule: Any family member wanting to join the business must work full-time for two years before they are allowed to buy in. It is a trial by fire designed to ensure the fit is right for both the individual and the dairy.
Musselman spent those two years working with hospital cows, managing fresh cows and diving deep into reproduction, learning the technical skills of breeding and ultrasounding. She spent hours in the milking parlors, understanding the rhythm of the employees and the needs of the animals. By May 2022, she had proven her commitment and began her journey as an owner.
Management and the Confrontation Hurdle
Transitioning from boots on the ground to management brought a new set of challenges. For a time, Musselman worked alongside Romeo, the farm’s herd manager, who has been a pillar of the operation for over 20 years. Together, they oversaw the day-to-day operations and a large team of employees.
However, a new dynamic emerged after Musselman’s marriage in June. Her husband, who had been with the farm for two years, began moving into a management role alongside her. They have discovered a tag-team approach that plays to their individual strengths.
“He’s a lot more confrontational than I am,” she admits with a laugh.
In the world of dairy management, confrontation isn’t about aggression; it’s about conflict resolution — addressing performance issues, managing schedules and holding the line on protocols.
“As a woman in the role, that is probably one of my biggest challenges. It’s been nice that he’s stepped into that to help. We work together really well,” she says.
This honesty about her management style reflects a broader confidence. Musselman finds her strength not in pretending to be someone else, but in her commitment to the work.
“It’s a mental game,” she says. “You just have to tell yourself that you can do this as well as anyone else. The more you do it, the easier it becomes.”
The Kosher Niche and the Variable of Comfort
Kulp Family Dairy LLC operates with a unique complexity: They ship kosher milk. This requires a Rabbi to live on-site to monitor tanks and trailers and a veterinarian to physically check every cow to ensure they haven’t had specific surgeries, such as for a displaced abomasum. Because of these requirements, the farm’s three sites are managed as one large, interconnected herd. All cows freshen at the home farm, while the satellite sites house specific groups, including first-lactation animals and those that are ineligible for the kosher line.
Currently, the farm is facing a challenge familiar to many growing operations: overcrowding. At the home farm, they are at 160% stocking density.
“It’s definitely not ideal,” Musselman says.
The overcrowding, combined with last year’s drought that affected corn silage quality, has seen production dip from 95 lb. to around 88 lb.
This bottleneck is the primary driver behind their current massive expansion.
The Future: 100 Stalls and a Rotary Dream
The latest project at Kulp Family Dairy is a testament to the family’s confidence in the Pennsylvania dairy industry. It includes a 100-stall DeLaval rotary parlor, two massive nine-row freestall barns and new sand lanes. The goal is to reach 4,500 cows by next year, reducing stocking density to a comfortable 125% and using labor more efficiently.
“We wanted to create a sustainable dairy for people to continue their jobs for years to come,” Musselman explains. The project was years in the making, involving countless meetings and consultations with experts from Farm Credit East to ensure the numbers made sense.
But even as the farm grows into a corporate-sized entity, the heart of it remains the family meeting. Once a week, the ownership team gathers. To keep personal life from bleeding into business, they open every session with a clear reminder: “This is a business-focused meeting.”
A Legacy of Mentorship
As Musselman looks toward the future, she is focused on the next generation — not just her own family, but the employees she leads. She believes in sharing the “why” behind every protocol, using translators and sharing key performance indicators with her herdsmen so they feel invested in the farm’s success.
Her advice to other young women looking at a career in agriculture is rooted in the same grit she learned in that old bank barn as a 10 year old: “Don’t be afraid of hard work. Conduct yourself with both confidence and humility. Realize there is a lot to learn but also know that there are areas where women excel and are better suited than men.”
For Kate Musselman, the reward isn’t just in the 95-lb. milk average or the shiny new rotary parlor. It’s in the boots-on-the-ground moments — ultrasounding a cow, seeing an employee prosper and knowing the legacy her grandparents started with 30 cows is now a sustainable future for the next 40 years of Pennsylvania dairying.
