Thanks to a providential business trip, Dave and I spent 10 glorious days doing what we love best: roaming the Southwest's cactus-filled deserts and art-filled hippie towns. From there, I spent three less glorious weeks tackling some health concerns that my doctors - and my 50-year-old body - pushed me to address.

But, all through the month, I was haunted by the same unsettling image: the tiny face of a five-year-old Asbury Park boy, allegedly beaten to death by his mother's boyfriend, a mother who reportedly sought medical help after it was too late.

Day after day, the front-page stories quoted family members, neighbors and friends wondering "Why? Why didn't DYFS save him?"

And running through my head were the same inescapable questions: Why? Why, with so many family members, neighbors, friends and - well - all of us in this close-knit town could this happen? How many similar cases are still being acted out in our homes and on our streets?

Because the hard truth is that underfunded, overworked, and all-too-human DYFS employees will never be able to protect our young people - not without our help. And this case just scratches the surface of the ugly realities facing many Asbury Park children.

There are the public manifestations, of course: The youthful drug-dealers. The on-going hostilities between African-American and Haitian-American youth. The calls from exasperated residents complaining about rock-throwing kids or bike-riding bullies.

And then there are the statistics compiled by city Social Services Director Tony Nuccio: In a city with an impossibly low median household income of $23,081, fully 60 percent of children aged 5 through 17 live in poverty. Only 25 percent of our high school graduates were college-bound in 2002, while an astounding 11 percent dropped out of high school. In 2001, 51 percent of Asbury Park Middle School students were suspended or expelled, and there were 555 juvenile detainees.

The statistics go on and on: Asbury Park leads the county in unemployment, domestic violence, child abuse, admissions to the Youth Detention Center, number of gangs, and births to unmarried women. We rank second in teen births, and lowest in high school and eighth-grade proficiency tests.

Where do you start? Ideally with the family, but too many Asbury Park families are not intact, and the parents - and grandparents - are often dealing with their own poverty, drug and abuse issues.

How do you break the chain? Ironically, an important part of the answer was also displayed on the front pages of area newspapers in March. After the gay marriage issue boiled up in Asbury Park, local churches rallied 1,200 people along Main Street to pray for the city. They rallied again last weekend.

What if those same marchers - say, only 25 a week - showed up regularly on Springwood or Elizabeth or Dewitt, or in key business parking lots (similar to the team already assembled by St. Stephen's Church) and told the ever-present drug-dealers, "Not on my streets. Not where our children play." Think of the impact. Think of the deterrent. Think how many others might join them.

What if these same groups found new ways to reach out to young, untrained mothers and fathers, or to publicly mediate between African-American and Haitian-American youth?

What if the bright, funny, talented seniors I've met from Lumley, Comstock Court, Asbury Tower, Robinson Towers, Philips Seaview Tower, and elsewhere formed a "grandparents league" to mentor and tutor individual youngsters?

What if the new crop of homeowners streaming in from New York and elsewhere used their incredible connections and talent - in education, theater, art, music, sports, journalism, and more - to take a group of Asbury Park youth from the schools, clubs, or streets and show them what's really available to them?

City hall can't do it alone, and neither can the Police Department, the Board of Education, or the same handful of faithful souls and churches that already volunteer for everything from food banks to recreation. Because, as a board member from the Boys & Girls Club told me last week, "There are never enough volunteers. It's always the same few people."

But there's enough talent and heart in this community - and in neighboring communities - now to make a difference in a handful of young lives, and that's the bottom line. Because if a few kids can make it, they can turn around and show their peers how it can be done. And those kids are definitely out there.

Take Rehnita Rudolph, for example. I first met her when she was a 14-year-old freshman, wise beyond her years, working in my gallery as part of a high school mentoring program. Within months, she was shining at everything from customer sales to exhibit openings. She's now working at Family & Children's Service, trying to save enough money for a car so she can attend college classes at a time when she has no permanent place to live.

Rehnita called me in May and rolled out a dozen ideas to keep Asbury Park kids off the streets this summer: A midnight basketball league for the older (17- to 25-year old) set. Double dutch jump-rope tournaments for young girls, with older girls serving as teachers and "big sisters". A spoken word poetry club and coffee house.

Her motivation? "There's not many jobs in Asbury Park, and not much for young people to do. I don't want to see my friends get into trouble this summer."

None of her ideas take very much money, but they do take volunteers and commitment. And that takes you. Her number is 732-682-8850. Give her a call. Or volunteer with the Boys & Girls Club (732-775-7862), or the summer soccer league (732-988-7322). Or call Urban Enterprise Zone director Tom Gilmour (732-502-5749) and ask about the UEZ's student intern program.

In an upcoming column, I'll list other city churches, groups and individuals who are looking for volunteers for their youth-related programs. (Call me at 732-774-7871 to tell me about your plans.) In the meantime, think hard about those "annoying" kids down the street.

They are the ones who most need your help.