On a recent Sunday in Malibu Colony, there was a chilly breeze and intermittent rain as friends and those who cared for TX Nite came to share memories of a remarkable life. Born Chester Callero, on Jan. 1, 1950, he legally changed his name to TX Nite sometime after he chose Malibu to be his new home. He said he was educated “in the school of hard knocks.” Yet, those who had known him for decades witnessed an evolution of character and a taming of inner rage as he grew away from being a self-imposed outcast to a man who could respect himself and others.
He arrived in Malibu with nothing. In fact, he came on foot on what he called “his long march,” prompted by his rejection of a troubled past. He was about 29 years old when he decided to start life over by leaving his home and family in the San Fernando Valley, and marching to the Pacific. In 1985, he was already identified by a local sheriff as a “long-term transient.” He scrounged for survival, sleeping on the beach at his chosen spot at the east end of the Malibu Colony. He had a daily routine of diving into the ocean. Some residents began to tolerate, accept and, in time, consider him a welcomed presence.
He was excellent with dogs, and protective of kids and old folks. He became popular and was booked solid for all kinds of odd jobs from dog sitting to caretaking to bartending. He had a full social calendar during the holidays.
And he shouldn’t have died the week before his 69th birthday, but, no longer homeless, he collapsed in the kitchen after having succumbed to cancer that destroyed his kidneys. It was consoling to learn there were people who had become part of a surrogate family to Chester and that he did not spend the holidays alone.
By 3 p.m., the brisk wind was still blowing, but the sun was out when a garland of flowers and Chester’s ashes were carried through a foamy surf by two hearty members of his surrogate families. Who knew how much he would be missed?
Mona Loo