A Tribute to Grace Chang by Scott Hiraoka
There is no greater gift to the world than mothers. We are all made from them and carry them with us throughout our lives. My mother passed away just over a month ago, on January 25, 2026. It was both a long road and quick passing and I will miss her forever. Throughout her life she touched the lives of so many people and through her funeral and memorial, we had the opportunity to hear from so many of them. I will post my own words in remembrance in another post, but one of our dear friends, Scott Hiraoka, shared the following tribute. His father and mine both worked at Western Washington University back in the 1970s, and our families have been intrinsically connected ever since. We hold so many memories together consider each other family to this day. Thank you, Scott, for these words that so appropriately are befitting of a woman who lived, loved, and touched so many lives.
Saturday Feb 7th, 2026
Universal Funeral Chapel, Alhambra, CA
Speaker: Scott Hiraoka
I’m Scott Hiraoka. To understand Grace, you have to understand the 50-year bond between the Yens and the Hiraokas. It started in Bellingham, Washington—two Asian families in a very white community, bonded by food, friendship, and a lot of roughhousing.
I remember those early days: David Yen and my father, Jesse, playing tennis and their other favorite sport: arguing.
Grace in the kitchen—she was a phenomenal cook—and the chaos of us kids playing indoor football in the hallway. I’m pretty sure Dan still remembers the feeling of being tripped or clotheslined while playing running back in those hallways. It was a home full of life, and since we had just lost our mother Jane, Grace was at the center of it providing much welcomed cheerfulness and female energy. The families made regular trips to Vancouver, British Columbia - mainly because Vancouver had a great Chinatown where Grace, always ordering in Chinese, could ensure we got the best service and off-menu specialties. There were no tariffs on the Chinese bakery items we brought back across the border.
Around 1977, I moved to California to establish residency for UCLA. I was essentially a vagabond, and the Yens didn't just open their door—they gave me a launchpad. I stayed at their place in San Marino, and Grace arranged an internship at Biocon Labs under Dr. Ed Marbach and Dr. Ware.
I was a kid surrounded by PhDs and engineers, working the vision of modernizing and digitizing medical data collection. They let me "fool around" with an HP computer and early computer time sharing, effectively jump-starting my 40-year career in software.
Now, I wasn't always the perfect intern. In fact, Grace once had to literally talk Dr. Marbach out of firing me "for cause." I learned a lot of lessons there—mostly about grace, both the concept and the woman.
The Yens’ generosity was legendary. They didn't just help me; they helped a whole "clan" of vagabonds. There was always someone who was moving to California to go to law school, or look for an apartment to start a new job - a welcoming place to stay while they explored new possibilities.
They let me drive an old, beater Chevy Nova so I could explore Southern California and visit the UCLA campus.
I remember Grace’s mom—80 pounds of "tiger lady," fiercely independent and deeply religious.
And, of course, there was the food. Meeting the Indonesian side of the Yen family, learning that sambal mixed with peanut butter is the greatest sauce ever invented. There were the regular trips for Dim Sum in the LA Chinatown, and dinners at the original Panda Inn in Pasadena. We’d sit there with the Panda founder Andrew Cherng, and I’d look over and see Richard Feynman—one of my physics heroes with the most famous eyebrows in history—eating Moo Shu pork and duck pancakes at the next table. Grace put me in the room where it happened.
In the late 90s, I had the honor of hosting Grace and her new love, Ed Marbach, at our home in Del Mar. It was a profound moment for me. My success—my business, my home, my family—was a direct result of the "boost" Grace gave me decades earlier. I got to show her that the "smart-ass" she once saved from being fired had actually turned into a responsible adult.
But Grace’s life wasn't without tragedy. She lost Ed in 2001, almost immediately after they married. Most people would have folded. Not Grace. She never felt sorry for herself. She reinvented herself, worked harder, and inspired everyone around her.
Years later, when I took a job in Pasadena and didn't want to commute from San Diego, I called her. Within 30 seconds, she said, "I've got a spare bedroom." I became her roommate—and once again, a bit of a freeloader. My "rent" was being forced to watch endless episodes of Boston Legal until she fell asleep and I could finally have the remote.
Grace was the definition of persistence and professional spirit. Like the California Bar Exam: She didn't fail the bar; she just enjoyed the studying and testing environment so much she wanted to go back a few more times.
She started Chang/Mattern, focusing on family and immigration law, helping people navigate the most difficult times of their lives. At her 80th birthday, I saw the breadth of her impact - sitting with people from the Obama administration who respected her just as much as we did.
I want to leave you with a story from her final days at Huntington Hospital. I was there with Dan and John on MLK Day. Dr. Kim, a fantastic oncologist, was explaining a life-prolonging drug they wanted to try.
He finished his explanation, and Grace asked in a soft voice: "How does it work?"
Dr. Kim started over, explaining the therapeutic benefits. Grace paused, looked at us, and repeated: "But how does it work?"
I almost laughed because I realized—she wasn't asking about the outcome. She wanted to know the mechanism. Is it electrophoresis? Spectrography? She was a medical lab person at heart, a woman who survived a liver transplant and understood the science of her own life. Even in that bed, she was curious, analytical, and sharp.
We now live in a world that seems to idolize mean spiritedness and often mistakes kindness and empathy for weakness. Grace was the rebuttal to that idea. She proved that acts of quiet kindness and fierce generosity can change a person's life in ways you can’t predict. She changed mine, and I love her for it.
