In Memory of Allen Christian: Two Years On

"No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away." — Terry Pratchett, UK

September 2009. St. Louis. Monsanto Creve Coeur campus. N Building. Men's restroom.

I was dressed up in a Calvin Klein suit—though I preferred another Ralph Lauren one I tried on in Macy’s Stanford Shopping Center, this was more affordable for a postdoc with a modest salary, saving for the future. Someone walked by and asked, “Are you here for an interview?”

“Yes. How do you know?”

“No one here dresses up like that.”

Before I could fully process the meaning of that comment, I had to return to the meeting room for the final interview of the day. My last interviewer? Allen T. Christian —the hiring manager’s manager.

He was tall, casually dressed yet neat, with an effortlessly cool demeanor. He didn’t ask many questions but instead painted a vision of how my background could help unravel the genetics of corn to create better seeds for farmers. Having grown up on a farm, that instantly resonated with me.

Not long after returning to Mountain View, CA, I received the offer to the newly established Monsanto Beijing Research Center and accepted it, turning down follow-up interviews from Genentech and MD Anderson Cancer Center . Both were great opportunities, but my almost exclusively plant biology research background raised concerns at Genentech, prompting them to request yet another interview round after I had already completed four. At MD Anderson, the role seemed a bit too junior compared to Monsanto’s Sr. Computational Biologist position. Later, I realized that Monsanto’s title structure was quite unconventional—everyone, from C-level executives to team leads, was simply called a “Lead,” without the traditional hierarchy of Directors, VPs, or SVPs. As a result, senior titles were more easily assigned, even to new hires like me.

Lessons from Allen

A year later, I traveled to St. Louis from Beijing and met Allen in his new office in Chesterfield CC building. I don’t recall what triggered the conversation, but I walked away with a fresh perspective: when unsure what to focus on, start by identifying what to stop. That insight has stayed with me and shaped many of my decisions, including explaining my reason for writing on LinkedIn.

Late 2011, Allen, along with Sonya Franklin and Bob Reiter , traveled to China. I expressed my interest in returning to the U.S. separately to all of them. Not long after, I was given the opportunity. In 2012, I was relocated to St. Louis with my family.

Allen later transitioned to lead the Product Supply Innovation function and moved back to Creve Coeur, so I had fewer interactions with him. However, I always considered him a mentor and sought his advice whenever I faced difficult questions. Our conversations were always engaging and insightful.

Of course, no one is perfect—not even Allen. In 2016, I had a tough moment during a conversation in his G Building office. I was excited to share that my first leadership review from my team was overwhelmingly positive. As a first-time team lead, that meant a lot to me. His immediate response?

“Don’t over-trust that. I know you Asian tend to give better reviews.”

He was somewhat right with the Asian cultural element but mistakenly assumed my team was mostly Asian—understandable given the overrepresentation of Asians in data-related fields. However, my team was actually quite diverse. I wasn’t bold enough to correct him at that moment and quickly moved on. I know that I am biased myself, why expect others not to?

Looking back, I know his intention was to remind me to focus on personal growth rather than being satisfied with praise or awards.

A Shared Passion for Innovation

Around 2017, I led my team in successfully replacing an outdated bioinformatics pipeline that his previous team had built years earlier. This upgrade significantly improved functionality and resolved a major bottleneck in our biotech R&D pipeline. I proudly shared this update with him, and he was excited. He even took the time to sit down with me in D Building to discuss the details of the algorithm changes, even though it wasn't within his work scope at the time. His only complaint?

I renamed the pipeline from RUSH to ESP.

He had named all the old pipelines after his favorite rock bands, and RUSH was one of them. I argued that ESP was also the name of a band—but he wasn’t buying it. Truthfully, I never paid much attention to bands, and the name wasn’t inspired by one either. It was actually a playful reference to "ExtraSensory Perception", highlighting how we (didn’t) use it (at all) for developing our new “Event Selection Pipeline.”

A Final Encounter That Never Happened

In 2019, after hearing about my struggles, Allen stopped by my GG building office. He shared that he had lost close friends to depression. It was early morning, and despite his packed schedule, he made time to check in on me at a different site than his. I was deeply moved.

It reminded me of a past conversation in his V Building office, when I had once vented about work stress. He had simply opened his drawer, showing me bottles of Tylenol and other medications, saying:

“You’re not alone. But things will be all right in the end.”

Then, two years ago today—March 22, 2023—I saw him at a networking session before Bob’s R&D Town Hall. He stood across the room. I planned to walk over and talk to him, but another colleague stopped me. By the time that conversation ended, the town hall had begun.

I thought, I’ll catch up with him later.

That later never came.

The following Monday, we were all devastated by Bob’s email. Allen was gone the night of Mar 22, the same day of the town hall.

A Legacy That Lives On

I attended his service, met his wife, saw his childhood photos from the Rocky Mountains and Grand Canyon, and learned more about his family. But I never learned why he left us so abruptly.

Does it matter?

Everything that has a beginning must have an end. Allen’s life left an indelible mark on so many of us, including me.

The N, G, and V Buildings will soon be sold, likely demolished. But the D, CC and GG Buildings will remain—along with the memories we shared.

Your spirit will always be with us.

Rest in peace, Allen Christian.

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3/22/2025, St. Louis