There is something familiar about the face, especially the eyes. People walking through the lobby of Raleigh's Renaissance Hotel pause and glance over. How do they know him? He is a middle-aged, unimposing man of average size, brown hair growing gray, with a full face, just another fellow, it seems, having a morning meeting with some other folks.
It will come upon them later, the remembrance. For Jerry Mathers at 60 years of age still has the actor's eyes, that way of looking straight at people, a certain presence. When the realization hits the others in the lobby, they'll say out loud, "The Beaver. That was the Beaver."
Fifty years ago now, a freckle-faced Mathers was one of the most famous people in America, the star of "Leave It to Beaver," a wholesome situation comedy that today remains in reruns, "the longest running scripted show in television history," he will tell you. 
But he's not in Raleigh to participate in some nostalgia tour. On appearances around the country, he represents PhRMA, a trade association of the drug research and biotechnology industry, which among other things provides free pharmaceuticals to the poor and promotes new medicines. The group was making an announcement about recent developments, some of which are connected to companies in the Research Triangle.
Mathers has a personal as well as professional connection. When he was about to turn 50, his doctor who was also his friend offered him a free physical. She told him he was diabetic, and asked him if he wanted to see his children graduate, his grandchildren born. If so, she said, he would have to change, or he would be dead in three to five years.
"I'd bought a catering business," he says, "and I put on 60 pounds. But I didn't know anything was wrong. Maybe because she was a friend of mine, I listened. Many people don't, and they ignore it. Then it's too late. You can fight it, or it will get you."
He lost weight. Today, he controls the illness with diet and exercise. He's healthy. He has seen his children graduate and prosper. He's hopeful there will be grandchildren. The PhRMA duties are not his only ventures. Still, he acts, even went to Broadway. And he has been smart with money, escaping the sad tales of other child actors.
"It was different for me," he says. "My dad was a teacher and a principal. I had brothers and a sister, and we were all treated the same." Basically, he was discovered when, in California, someone saw him shopping with his mother when he was two. He did some modeling, commercials, and then the Beaver show came along. There weren't many kids in television then. Later on, when the show ended, he was perfectly happy.
"I told my dad I wanted to just go to high school," he said. "So I did, and played football and everything. It was great. I went to college (University of California at Berkeley). I joined the Air National Guard for six years. The kids who had trouble, lost their money, their parents were their managers. That wasn't the case with me."
His money was invested, providing, he says, "a nice nest egg" for college, and he made a good living in other businesses. One of his financial advisers was, and is, "Lumpy" from the show, and he remains good friends with other cast members, who have lived happy lives. There was a "New Leave It to Beaver" years back, and still there are acting jobs.
But life has not been as idyllic as portrayed in the old show. Where were his bumps? "I've been divorced twice," he said. "That was probably the worst thing, because of my kids (he has three), but they came through it. But you spend those years, and then it's all about money...and now, it's so easy for people to walk away." The sentence trails off. He has spent some time thinking about it.
He's been thoughtful as well about the rest of his life, and about his good fortune, and about those causes he represents. Though he comes to a discussion of diabetes armed with statistics, his own experience has given him all the anecdotes he needs. There is no question the disease is epidemic, particularly among young people. And no question, either, about the consequences. Loss of vision, heart and kidney disease, amputation.
His celebrity works for PhRMA, but he doesn't loft a barrage of promotional information at everybody and resent those who just want to talk about show business, which is true of some celebrity spokespeople.
"I've never minded talking about the show, or people coming up and wanting autographs," he says. "When you think about it, that's nice."
