Gregorio Esteban Sánchez Fernández, also known as Chiquito de la Calzada, devoted the majority of his life to helping others forget their problems. Born on a humble street in Málaga, he began touring circuses, flamenco tablaos, and eventually television studios at the age of eight, developing one of Spain’s most unique comedic voices. He didn’t truly become well-known until he was well into his sixties. His catchphrases were all over the place by that point. His face was unavoidable. And he had quietly and steadily amassed a sizable fortune.
Chiquito left everything to his niece Loli Arjona when he passed away in November 2017 at the age of 85. He was widowed, childless, and still adored. On the surface, it appeared to be a kind last gesture from a man who prioritized family over nearly everything else. But what came next was anything but straightforward.
It was all inherited by Loli. Over the course of their 60-year marriage, Chiquito had given his wife Pepita money, properties, personal items, and jewelry. The estate was estimated to be worth about four million euros, according to reports that surfaced in later years. That number was widely disseminated. It continues to do so. And more than anything else, Loli seems to be irritated by the number.
“Four million euros? She reportedly said to journalist Luis Fernando Romo, “When? I’m still looking for them,” with a dark sense of humor that would have fit in with one of her uncle’s routines. According to regional succession tax regulations, she clarified, the Junta de Andalucía received seventy percent of the inheritance. The national tax authority followed. Next is the capital gains tax on property transfers, known as the municipal plusvalía. What was left hardly resembled the headline figure by the time the dust had settled.
The autonomous regional government of the very land that shaped Chiquito’s identity, the Junta de Andalucía, ultimately became, in Loli’s opinion, the true “universal heir.” This is somewhat ironic. It’s difficult to ignore the bitterness in the framing, as she stated herself. She continues to reside in the same apartment complex. She maintains that nothing has changed in her life. She talked about being nervous when she went to the ATM and looking around, not knowing what she would find.
The only property listed in the public registry was a 200-square-meter apartment with two parking spaces on Antonio Machado’s waterfront promenade in Málaga. It was estimated to be worth 400,000 euros. On a clear day, the beach at San Andrés is visible from such a terrace. It’s the kind of view that seems desirable until you find out how much it costs to maintain.
By all accounts, Chiquito himself disliked excess. According to his niece, he was incredibly modest; he was just as likely to shake hands with a homeless person as he was with royalty, and he had no idea—or perhaps was unwilling to admit—how well-known he had become. He didn’t pursue opulence. Pepita, who had been his pillar of support since their marriage in 1950 at the age of just twenty, received “chucherías”—small trinkets and jewels. Those who knew him claimed he never fully recovered, and she passed away ten years before he did.
Reading between the lines of Loli’s interviews over the years reveals that the money was essentially unimportant. The burden of being publicly recognized as a millionaire heiress, the incessant inquiries, the intricate legal system, and the institutional machinery sifting thru an estate she believed would be hers—all of it came as a surprise to her. “The inheritance brings me nothing but heartache,” she replied. Speaking of four million euros is an odd statement. Additionally, it makes perfect sense in light of the situation.
The inheritance tax system in Spain varies greatly by region, and Andalucía maintained rates that could deprive a sizable portion of large estates before a family member saw a single euro for the majority of the time after Chiquito’s death. Although there have been some changes to the rules in recent years, Loli felt that they were too late to have much of an impact.
Chiquito de la Calzada should be honored for what he created: a unique comedic style, a warmth that transcended generations, and a career that only really reached its zenith when most people would have retired. Reruns, memes, and the occasional royalty check that Loli still receives when his voice or image appears in a production are all ways that his legacy endures. At least she owns that portion. It appears that most of the others went somewhere else.
