That stiff-and-sometimes-severe tone and tenor would be the ones echoing out of the mouth of Ed Petke, a rugged individual, now 74, who worked for the Long Island Railroad for the better part of four decades. Ed did small jobs and big ones, easy and hard. He labored like a grown man, taking 1:30 a.m.-to-noon shifts so he could be at the family’s house, a two-story colonial on Philips Street in Bohemia, NY, when his kids got home from school. He cared about them and wanted to be around them. But conscientious work was appreciated and valued and expected.
Monson: ‘What the hell’s wrong with Mike Petke?’ Nothing. Nothing at all.
