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Born in 1942 at Franklin Hospital in San Francisco, California.
Mother Dorothy Heil Burtnett died at my birth. Taken home by my aunt Eleanor Cookinham and
Dr. Franklin Hillman Cookinham to 2645 Lake Street in San Francisco. Eleanor Cookinham was
my aunt, my blood father's sister and Dr. Cookinham was the physician who delivered me. My
father Frank Burtnett left the scene to enlist. Nobody knew what to do with me, it was my
grandmother Nell Heil or my mother's sister Minette Hunt and her husband Henry or the
orphanage. Eleanor Cookinham decided that she and Dr. Cookinham should have the privilege.
Something happened during my birth, my mother hemorrhaged and Dr. Cookinham was not found
and she exsanguinated. I lived at 2645 Lake until I was 11. The house was magical. It had
the largest private library in San Francisco with oriental carpets, a fireplace, and my
father's desk. I didn't speak at first but finally issued two words "pretty
light" because my mother would hold me to look out the window to see the light across
the Golden Gate. The house had a gym, a star gazing opening in the roof, a darkroom, a
large dining room where my parents entertained and a basement with a walk in safe. It
still had coal stored there from the old days. My adopted father was a Homeopath and a
surgeon, fairly unusual at the time. He had a large practice at 450 Sutter Street in
downtown San Francisco. I spent a lot of time with my mother Eleanor running around
downtown visiting the White House and Granat Brothers and Gumps, etc. It was an exciting
place to be then, people dressed. We ate often at restaurants. And Lillie, Lillie Jackson,
our "maid." Lillie helped save my life you know, she took care of the house and
me. I now know that many kids then were mommied by African American women.
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| HOME: a.k.a. Mike Burtnett
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