Costa Mesa, ‘The O.C.’ and the Beaver

PETER BUFFA

I’m happy about it. I really am: as long as I don’t ever have to

watch it. “The O.C.,” that is.

I’m glad Le Grande Orange is getting lots of attention from the

Fox series. We just had the cast in Newport Beach; Mayor Tod gave

them a key to the city, etc. etc. I just wish it were a better show.

Actually, that’s a little cold. If you’re into prime-time soap

operas, it’s no worse than any other. Of course I’d rather have a

root canal without Novocain than watch a soap opera, whatever time of

day.

Yes, the show is wildly popular and yes, millions of people around

the world tune in every week to see what happens to the totally

beautiful but terminally clueless Cohens of Newport Beach. Then

again, millions of people tune in every week to watch “Fear Factor.”

Personally, I’m much more interested in another television series

and a persistent mystery that involves that series and, of all

things, Costa Mesa. I’ve never been able to solve it. Maybe you can

help.

The series first ran a long, long time ago -- from 1957 to 1963 --

although, like “I Love Lucy,” you can always find a rerun of it on

some channel at some time or other. I’ll give you a hint: “Ward, I’m

worried about the Beaver.”

You are very smart: “Leave It to Beaver,” of course, one of the

most popular TV series ever, still running in over 100 countries

around the world.

So what’s the connection with Costa Mesa? Don’t get your shorts in

a wad. We’re getting there. In 1986, I was in a Costa Mesa City

Council candidates’ forum. In the course of my little speech, which I

thought was excellent, I mentioned that I was in the television

production business. Afterward, while everyone was mingling and

chatting and pandering for votes, an elderly man walked up to me and

said, “I assume you know about ‘Leave It to Beaver’ and Costa Mesa.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “But please vote for me anyway.”

He said that the producers could never decide where the Cleaver

family actually lived, although there was an occasional hint about

Ohio in various episodes. But one of the producers had a relative in

Costa Mesa on Pine Place, just off Victoria Street, and that the

Cleavers’ neighbors and neighborhood were modeled after that little

corner of Costa Mesa.

“That’s incredible!” I said. “But please vote for me. I’m

desperate.”

I never saw him again, but the story stuck in my mind. The problem

was, in those pre-Internet days, there was no easy way of checking it

out.

A few years later, when I was on the council, we were debating

whether or not to widen Victoria Street, which would mean condemning

a number of houses, which is a very, very tough decision.

We had a number of Town Hall meetings on the subject and after one

of those meetings, as everyone was shuffling out the door, I heard a

woman say, half-jokingly, “I hope they don’t take the ‘Leave It to

Beaver’ house.”

That stopped me short, but I couldn’t tell who said it for all the

people in the way. Now I was dying to know if the story was true.

I made a note to try some of the movie memorabilia shops in

Hollywood. There are lots of them, but my favorite is Hollywood Book

& Poster, which has an enormous collection of film and television

scripts, some old and some not, some famous and some not.

On my next trek north, I headed for Hollywood Book & Poster,

hoping to find a script from the first episode of the series. I found

something even better -- the script for the “Leave It to Beaver”

pilot! I flipped through the pages as fast as I could and it didn’t

take long to actually find exactly what I was looking for -- the

Cleavers’ address.

Was it Pine Place, you ask? Was it? No, it wasn’t. And stop

yelling at me.

It was “485 Maple Drive.” I was so bummed. And that’s where things

sat -- a quirky story based on two casual mentions by two people I

didn’t even know -- until the Internet came along.

A few years later, once I got over what a funny sounding word

“Google” was and learned how to use it, I decided to take another run

at the “Beaver” story. By that time, the show’s producers, Bob Mosher

and Joe Connelly, had both gone on to their greater reward, but I did

make a fascinating discovery -- the pilot episode of “Leave It to

Beaver” never aired. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

In the pilot, Jerry Mathers was the Beaver, but the father, “Ward

Cleaver,” was played by Casey Adams, not Hugh Beaumont. Barbara

Billingsley was June Cleaver, but Beaver’s brother, Wally, was played

by Paul Sullivan, not Tony Dow.

But here’s the kicker. Aside from the cast changes between the

pilot and episode one, do you know where the “real” Cleavers lived?

They lived in “Mayfield” on “Pine Street” -- 211 Pine Street, to be

exact.

Does the similarity between “Pine Street” and Pine Place in Costa

Mesa mean anything? I have no idea. But why would two people make

separate comments, years apart, about “Leave It to Beaver” and Costa

Mesa? Huh? Answer me that, smarty-pants.

By the way, here’s some more interesting trivia about the

Cleavers’ house, as if you haven’t been absolutely fascinated with

everything so far. The house, which is on the Universal Studios back

lot, was used in the 1955 thriller, “The Desperate Hours,” with

Humphrey Bogart and Fredric March. Five years after “Beaver” had

faded into rerun land, it became the home of “Marcus Welby, M.D.”

with Robert Young. How weird is that? Jim Anderson from “Father Knows

Best” ends up living in Ward Cleaver’s house.

So there you have it -- Costa Mesa and the Beaver. If you’re out

there and you know anything about it, contact me at your earliest

convenience. It’s important.

I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].