Robert and Leslyn were having dinner one night in September [1941] with his old friend Elwood “Woodie” Teague when an unpleasant incident occurred. Teague had been at the Naval Academy with Heinlein, though he left before graduation to go into banking and had done quite well for himself. A “black reactionary,” he would argue politics with Heinlein for hours on end, but he had done everything he could to promote Heinlein’s political career.

We were very close—when their baby girl was killed in an accident [in 1937], it was us they sent for. We spent a week with them then, going home only to sleep. I arranged the funeral, and fed him liquor, and held his head. And so forth. More of the same, over seventeen years. Somehow, over the years, the subject of race had never come up before. Teague suddenly went off about “the Jews,” making anti-Semitic remarks that would have been at home in the mouth of a Nazi. At first, Heinlein thought Woody was just kidding, in extremely bad taste, but Teague assured him he was not kidding.

I sat there for another fifteen seconds, thinking about my lawyer, who is a Jew and one of the finest men I know, and about my campaign treasurer, another Jew, and about their kids. Anyhow, I decided that I couldn’t let it go on and ever look them in the face again.

So I stood up and said, “Woodie, apparently there has been a mistake made. It appears you didn’t know that I am half Jewish.” Then I turned to Leslyn and said, “Come on—we are going home,” and went out to get our coats.

This was a complete surprise to Leslyn: she knew as well as Robert that his background was Protestant at least six generations back, and Bavarian Catholic before that. Moreover, Robert never lied. (“I don’t tell a lie once in five years; when I do, it’s arc-welded and water tight.”) But she caught her cue and followed his lead.

Is it any wonder I love the gal? She looks little and soft and feminine, which she is, but she’s got mind as hard and tough and logical as a micrometer guage. Anyhow we left, leaving a social shambles behind us—went home to nurse a stomach attack and a migraine, respectively.

• "Robert A. Heinlein: Volume I: Learning Curve, 1907-1948" by William H. Patterson Jr.