Divine Horseman Holds Reins at Jewish Institute

The sun was just rising over the Brandeis-Bardin ranch near Simi Valley as Johnny Varble began the day’s jumble of chores.

By the time he fell into bed that night, Varble had herded 100 head of cattle, baled hay, re-jiggered a faulty electrical line and supervised a kitchen crew making lunch for 100 student campers.

It was a typical day for the fourth-generation Ventura County resident, who has been caring for the 3,100-acre property for more than 32 years.

“My title is ranch manager, but looking after the cows is a pretty small part of what I do,” said the 66-year-old Varble. “My job is really to keep this place running.”

The place in Varble’s care is the Brandeis-Bardin Institute, a Jewish educational center founded by noted educator Shlomo Bardin and Supreme Court Justice Louis D. Brandeis in Hancock, N.Y., in 1941.

After Brandeis died, Bardin decided to move the institute to California in 1947, where weather would allow year-round operations. The arid climate and rolling hills south of Simi Valley reminded Brandeis of Palestine.

Now hundreds of Jewish people from around the world gather at the center each year for educational programs on religion and culture. The institute also has a summer camp for children.

While visitors and students attend lectures and enjoy the sweeping vistas and rural atmosphere, Varble tools around the property in a faded red 1958 Jeep, making sure everything is going smoothly.

“People come in here with all their worries and they’re all wound up and tense,” Varble said. “My job is to take care of all the problems so they can relax and be themselves.”

Varble’s work at the institute does not go unnoticed. Over the years he has gained the respect and admiration of the institute’s administrators, taking on a sort of living legend status.

“No. 1, he is the best horseman in the U.S.,” said Jerry Novorr, who serves on the institute’s board of directors. “You ought to see him out there herding cattle. This is his ranch.”

Alvin Mars, executive vice president of the institute, also has high praise for the ranch manager. “Johnny is my colleague and my teacher and my best friend here at Brandeis,” Mars said. “Without Johnny, this place would not exist. He knows every inch of this place and he takes care of it.”

Mars is especially proud of the horseback-riding and cattle-branding skills he has learned under Varble’s tutelage.

“It’s not what I’d expect to be doing with a Ph.D. in Jewish education,” Mars said. “But that is one of the things that makes it so delightful. This is a very special place, and a big reason for that is Johnny.”

In addition to caring for three dozen horses and 100 head of cattle, Varble acts as an all-around handyman. He fixes everything from faulty sewer lines to leaky roofs on the institute’s aging buildings.

Many of the 64 structures at the institute date back to the early 1900s, when a millionaire beer maker named Eddie Maier owned much of the land.

One of the largest, a two-story Spanish-style house built in 1914, was destroyed by the Jan. 17 earthquake.

Now Varble is helping with plans for a replacement that will house the institute’s offices.

“One minute I’m out in the barn,” Varble said. “The next minute I’m talking to a county planner about how we’re going put this new building together.”

Dressed in boots, Levi’s, snap-button shirt and 10-gallon hat, Varble looks more like a cowboy than a building designer.

But the ability to juggle a range of tasks runs in his family. It began with his great-grandfather, Sam Easley, a beekeeper who moved to Simi Valley and became the first clerk of Ventura County.

“He did a little ranching too,” Varble said. “We all learned a range of skills because we didn’t have much money, and if we wanted something done we had to do it ourselves.”

Now Varble is sharing his expertise with one of his sons, John Jr., 29.

“There’s plenty to do around here and I’m glad to have all the help I can get,” Varble said.

Summer is an especially busy time. In addition to tending the ranch and its buildings, Varble and his staff of 15 must cook and care for the hundreds of students who flock to the institute for summer camp.

Varble, a longtime single father who reared his three children, said the experience gives him insight into the needs of the youths who gather at the institute.

“I see these kids running around here today and it all comes back, the growing pains, the craving for privacy and freedom from restrictions,” Varble said. “This is the kind of place where kids can run free. I used to let my kids camp out in the hills. I didn’t know exactly where they were, but I knew they were safe.”

When things get really hectic at the ranch, Varble retreats to a dark, cool barn that once belonged to Maier.

Here, in the company of his 11 snorting quarter-horses, Varble can relax.

“This is where I go to get away from it all,” Varble said, as he threw a saddle on a 6-year-old mare named Rosarita.

Varble spends much of his free time riding and training his horses. For the past 18 years, he has competed in the rodeo event called reining.

Dozens of award saddles and belt buckles line the barn’s walls, attesting to his skill.

On a recent afternoon Varble demonstrated the technique.

With a slight twitch of the rein and touch of the spur, he coaxed Rosarita into a series of gallops and prances.

Taking measured steps, the horse glided backward, forward and side to side.

Then after a brief pause and another slight twitch of the rein, Rosarita spun in place, twirling around and around as rocks scattered and dust flew.

“She’s one of the best I ever had,” Varble said, patting the horse between the ears.

When the day’s work is done, Varble retires to a cozy, whitewashed cottage on a hill overlooking much of the ranch. He and his wife, Wendy, restored the 1940s house after they were married eight years ago.

“I think we are really fortunate to have this place,” Wendy Varble said. “It’s like being on a permanent vacation.”