Chen said that their parents, for whom the endowment is named (Chen is their father’s last name and Hu, their mother’s) instilled in them “the value of education; independence in thinking and decision making; the true value of money and its impermanence; love and dedication to family; and the importance of sharing one’s fortune with those who are less fortunate.”
The money Yeuliang left is “not huge,” Chen said, but will be enough to send two young researchers a year to scientific meetings “so that they can present their results and they can learn.”
A dream dashed
Learning was a way of life for Yeuliang, according to Chen, whose team studies the molecular epidemiology of tobacco- and hormone-related cancers and gene signatures linked to head and neck cancers. Chen is also an affiliate professor of otolaryngology and epidemiology at the University of Washington and a graduate school faculty member for the UW’s School of Public Health.
“He was very bright and graduated with top honors in economics from the best university in Taiwan,” she said. “He really wanted a Nobel Prize.”
The youngest of three children, Yeuliang emigrated to the U.S. in the early '80s, first attending Rice University before transferring to Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, to study with top economists. He entered a highly competitive Ph.D. program, teaching classes and studying into the wee hours of the morning.
His secret to staying up: chain smoking.
“At the time, nobody knew that smoking was a risk factor for heart attacks,” said Chen. “When I got a call from one of his friends [in February 1983] that Yeuliang was in the hospital and had had a heart attack, I said, ‘What are you talking about?’”
Chen flew to Providence to be with her brother, but Yeuliang’s health struggles were just beginning. On the night before he was to be released from the hospital, he suffered a massive stroke while taking a shower. Incapacitated and unable to call for help, he wasn’t found for 45 minutes.
When Chen saw him next, her brilliant little brother had gone through a profound change. The stroke left Yeuliang partially paralyzed and wiped out his short-term memory.
“He couldn’t recognize his name in Chinese, he couldn’t speak. It was terrible,” she said. “He lost all of his Cantonese, his first language. The Mandarin was still there.”
There was no interpreter at the hospital so Chen stayed on for several months to help, translating and teaching her brother how to speak and write again. She also made arrangements for her mother to travel from Taiwan to help with Yeuliang’s care.
“She did not speak the language but came all by herself,” said Chen. “I was just amazed at the amount of love a mother has for her child.”