
Most of us have a special place in our home where we display pictures of our family. For me that special place is a credenza that features framed photos of my wife Pam, my sister, our parents, and my two make-believe brothers, Tony Dow and Jerry Mathers.
From 1957 to 1963, Jerry and Tony played brothers Theodore and Wally Cleaver on Leave it to Beaver, a sitcom about the adventures of two siblings growing up in middle America. In later years, some revisionist media pundits would criticize the show as having painted an unrealistically positive picture of family life, but to millions of boys growing up in the 1950s and ‘60s, the Cleaver household was a great place to visit every week.
This fall, Leave it to Beaver will celebrate its 65th anniversary, and it’s also the anniversary of when Jerry and Tony’s lifelong friendship began. Jerry told me that despite their age difference, “We became friends right off the bat. Between takes, Tony would always toss football or throw baseball with me.” The two boys had also come from different backgrounds. Unlike his “brother” Jerry Mathers, who had been a child actor long before Leave it to Beaver, Tony had been a junior Olympic diving champion with absolutely no desire to be on camera. Once cast as Wally, though, Tony became one of TV’s first teenage heartthrobs. Yet despite all the fame and adulation that the show brought him, Tony remained a reluctant star with a non-existent ego.
After the show ended, both men continued acting, but Tony preferred to make his mark behind and away from the cameras, first as a director, then as a master sculptor, the latter giving him an escape from his earlier bouts of depression. Tony’s burl wood sculptures are world famous, and one of them was even displayed in the Louvre. Pam and I were fortunate enough to attend one of his one-man shows, and later visit with him and his lovely wife Lauren at their home in Topanga. We stayed in touch over the years by phone and email, and one of my favorite correspondences is a photo of Tony, Lauren, and their dog Brodie, with a note that said, “Hello Pam and Jim. We loved getting to know you and hope our paths cross again in the future.” Unfortunately, the future wasn’t as long as I had hoped it would be. During the pandemic, Tony fought off both pneumonia and liver cancer. The latter took him from us on July 27. Tony Dow was 77.
I first met Tony and Jerry back in May of 2008 when I was asked to produce and moderate A Mothers Day Salute to TV Moms for the Television Academy in North Hollywood. Barbara Billingsley, who played the boys’ mother on Leave it to Beaver, was scheduled to be on the panel with other iconic TV Moms, but she was hospitalized just prior to the event, and was unable to attend. That’s when I invited Jerry and Tony to attend on her behalf, and say a few words about what Barbara meant to them. Keep in mind that, prior to my introducing the Cleaver boys, the stage was already filled with dozens of A-list stars, including Cloris Leachman and Diahann Carroll, each of whom had received an enthusiastic welcome from the capacity crowd. But in all my years of producing and moderating special events, I’ve never witnessed a bigger standing ovation than the one that Tony and Jerry received when I brought them up on stage. I guess it wasn’t just me who had wanted to be their make-believe brother.
The following year during our visit to the Dows’ home, Pam and I were first struck by the natural beauty of their hide-away estate. It is a garden spot surrounded by the hills of Topanga Canyon, where Tony would hunt for pieces of burl wood, which he formed into bronze masterpieces at his workshop. Inside the house, we were treated to lunch and a front-row seat to one of Hollywood’s great romances, which began 42 years ago. Tony and Lauren’s love for each other was real and deep, and everlasting. The day after Tony died, Lauren told me, “It’s hard to lose your best friend.”
Not surprisingly, during their four decades together, Tony preferred spending time at home with Lauren to the glitz of Hollywood red carpets, so I was particularly excited when he let me coax him into appearing on stage that special night in 2008. Honestly, though, I don’t think Tony appreciated what he meant to millions of people, and he seemed genuinely surprised by the grand ovation that he and Jerry received at the TV Moms event. I wasn’t surprised, though. That’s just the kind of humble guy my make-believe big brother was, and I miss him. Gee Wally, why’d you have to go and leave us so soon?





























Posted August 16, 2022 By Triad TodayRemembering Clu Gulager: Real Cowboy, Real Artist
Acting can be dangerous. Just ask Clu Gulager:
“I played the Mouse King in third grade, and this girl named Marian Bebb threw a shoe at me and killed me.”
It’s no wonder young Clu put his acting career on hold for a while. Who wouldn’t, after being killed by a flying shoe? Still, the work he did during his formative years was no picnic either, but at least it prepared him for some of the roles he would play later on.
“I was a cowboy in Oklahoma, where we raised white-face cattle. I used to have to ride the fences, and in winter it was really cold. When I saw a break in the fence, I had to get down off of my pony with some wire and fix that break. The thing I’m most proud of in my whole life is that, on my watch, not one white face got away.”
And while Clu spent most of his time doing cowboy chores, he was also influenced by his father’s many talents as a cowboy performer in Vaudeville and on Broadway. The elder Gulager was particularly known for his mastery of rope tricks, something he had in common with a famous relative.
“My father grew up in Indian Territory with his cousin Will Rogers. They were both very adept at trick roping. According to my aunt, Will would spend hours and hours down by the barn practicing with the ropes. He always wanted to improve. But my uncle once told me, ‘Your Dad was better than Will at twirling ropes!’”
Inspired by his father’s showmanship, and armed with a fierce work ethic, Clu struck out on his own, and paid his dues as a thespian by appearing on stage, as well as in a number of live television dramas. He soon signed as a contract player with Universal Studios where he appeared in everything from mystery series to crime shows. But the Oklahoma ranch hand also found himself working on TV westerns, which led to his being offered the starring role of Billy the Kid on NBC’s The Tall Man.
“My agent and I sat in the car for about three hours deciding whether or not to wait for movies, or take The Tall Man series. I had a wife and little boy to support, so I took the TV show, and I’ve never regretted it.”
But Gulager, who studied the Stanislavski Method, was as serious about his acting as he had been about his ranching, and the shooting schedule of make-believe westerns was frustrating to the young star.
“Artists pride ourselves on taking our time to find things in the words. But that didn’t happen on TV. The networks wanted those shows yesterday, so we had to really speed along, and couldn’t even rehearse. We shot each episode of The Tall Man in two and a half days.”
The Tall Man was canceled after two seasons, but not because of hectic schedules or low ratings. Instead, Clu told me it was politics and politicians who killed Billy the Kid.
“Congress debated the fact that Billy the Kid was a killer, and that I was playing him as a hero on television, which wasn’t good for our children. So they pressured NBC to take The Tall Man off the air. Of course, Congress let ABC keep The Untouchables, and our show wasn’t one-eighth as violent as that show.”
Soon after the cancellation of The Tall Man, Gulager signed up to play a recurring role on The Virginian until 1968, then spent the next three decades as a highly sought-after guest star for scores of TV dramas such as Murder She Wrote, Hawaii Five-O, and The Streets of San Francisco. A career highlight was landing the role of the town lothario in Peter Bogdanovich’s film, The Last Picture Show. The co-star he was supposed to seduce was a young model named Cybill Shepherd.
“One day, Peter wanted to stand in for me during Cybill’s close-ups, and my heart sank. I thought I was just a bad actor, and that Peter didn’t want me feeding Cybill her lines. I didn’t realize Peter and Cybill had fallen in love. Much later, I was told that Peter had actually wanted to play my part, but the casting director wanted me, and Peter eventually agreed.
I first met Clu Gulager in 2013 at the Western Film Festival, and we stayed in touch periodically after that. Sadly, Clu passed away on August 5 at the age of 93. Gulager’s acting career lasted nearly 70 years, yet he managed to re-invent himself for each new generation of fans. Us old folks remember Clu for his work in Westerns while younger audiences know him for his appearances in horror films like Return of the Living Dead and Piranha 3DD, proving two things: a real artist can master any genre; and, anyone who can survive a shoe attack can survive a piranha attack.
RIP, cowboy.
(You can view my 2013 interview with Clu by visiting my Celebrity Interviews page at www.jimlongworth.com.)