Connelly and Mosher's first solo television effort was a short-lived anthology series for actor Ray Mil­ land. This uncharacteristic failure, they revealed ir. a New York Times interview with Oscar Golbout, taught them to restrict themselves to writing "things we know about." They followed up on this resolution by taking a situation Connelly had observed while driving his son to parochial school and crafting it into The Private War of Major Benson, a theatrical feature starring Charlton Heston that won the pair an Academy Award nomination in 1956. It was from such real-life simplicity that Leave It to Beaver was born. In 1957 Connelly and Mosher developed a concept for an adult-appealing show about children. Unlike such predecessors (and competitors) as The Life of Riley, The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, and Father Knows Best, it would not be the parents who served as Beaver's focal point but rather, their offspring. The stories would be told from the kids' point of view as Connelly and Mosher recalled it and observed it in their own children. Mosher was the father of two children and Connelly the parent of six. While all of these offspring served as sources for the show's dialogue and plot lines, Con­ nelly's eight-year-old son Ricky was the inspiration for Beaver, his 14-year-old son Jay the model for Beaver's older brother Wally.

     Remington Rand picked up the project that became a co-owned vehicle in which Connelly and Mosher had 50 percent and comedian George Goebel's Gomalco Production controlled the other half. The creative and casting aspects of the show were put together by dominant talent agency MCA (then known as the Music Corporation of America).

     From its inception, Beaver was fashioned as a traditional family unit with two sons. Beaver Cleaver was near eight when the show began, and his brother Wally was 12. Although Beaver's real name was Theodore, the nickname was emphasized to suggest a toothy, perky youngster who was "all boy." Early in the series, Beaver explains that he acquired the moniker as a baby when toddler Wally could only pronounce Theodore as "Tweeter." Parents Ward and June modified the sound to the slightly more dignified "Beaver," which would be the show's namesake. The pilot script was, in fact, titled Wally and Beaver to emphasize the project's child's-eye viewpoint. Sponsor Remington Rand felt this might suggest a nature program, however, so the series became Leave It to Beaver.

     Beaver ran on network television from October 1957 to September 1963, the first season on CBS and the following five on ABC. Paralleling the network shift, the show's production relocated from Republic Studio to Universal Studios after the second year-and the on-screen Cleavers moved from a modest, picket­ fenced house at 485 Maple Drive to a larger abode at 211 Pine Street-both in the small and vaguely Mid­ western town of Mayfield. A library of 234 episodes was produced, in which the characters were allowed to naturally age with their actors. Beaver went from a dirt-loving little boy to a gawky teen about to enter high school. Wally matured from a preteen just beginning to take an interest in girls to a poised young man ready to leave for college. In the show's first seasons, when actor Jerry Mathers was at his cutest, this Beaver character was the program's centerpiece. As he bc:­ came a more gangling preadolescent, more plot attention was directed toward Wally, whose portrayer Tony Dow was developing into a handsome teenager. Through it all, father Ward (played by Hugh Beaumont, a Methodist lay preacher and religious film actor) and mother June (grade-B film and TV drarr:a veteran Barbara Billingsley) observed and nurtured their children with quiet selflessness and obvious low. Despite its six-year-run as a prime-time network offering, Beaver never made the coveted top-25 list. Nevertheless, its down-to-earth writing, low-key acting, and uncontrived storylines served as a memorable and well-crafted icon for the positive if unremarkable joys of middle-class family life in general and suburban kid-dom in particular. If Beaver's ignoring of significant social issues was a common flaw of the programs of its time, its unpretentious advocacy of personal responsibility and self-respect was an uncommon virtue. Admittedly, as critic Robert Lewis Shayon observed, Ward and June Cleaver were "Mr. and Mrs. Average-American living in their typical Good House­keeping home." But what happened in and around that home was a consistent and continuous celebration of all those minor but precious family victories that could be won even when the children themselves were re­quired to be the decision makers.

     Less than three months after Beaver left the air, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy changed the nation's view of itself and its times. Connelly and Mosher went off to write The Munsters, and a country preoccupied with civil rights strife, Vietnam, Wood­ stock, and Watergate would find little relevance in Beaver's radio-derived simplicity. But by the late 1970s, the show's uncomplicated and nonabrasive observations reacquired appeal. On superstation WTBS and scores of other outlets, Beaver reruns enjoyed significant ratings success. Beaver and Wally appeared ,)n packages of Kellogg's Com Flakes in 1983, and the show's cast members have since been featured in a variety of retrospective projects. A striking example of the wistful admiration for all the series still represents was uncovered in a 1994 Parenting magazine poll. Predictably, 40 percent of respondents said the can temporary super-hit Roseanne reflected their family life-but a full 28 percent picked Beaver instead. What Wally once observed about his brother may be true of the program as a whole: "He's got that little kid expression on his face all the time, but he's not really as goofy as he looks." After almost half a century, Beaver continues its on-air exposure with frequent airings on such nostalgia-oriented cable networks as TV Land.