Come to Asbury Park and you can feel them all - sometimes in the span of 10 minutes.

In October, 1998, I was balanced - as I'd been for weeks - on a 20-foot scaffold, spattered with grout and happily slapping mosaic tiles on the Main Street wall of our gallery.

On this particular afternoon, a red car pulled up and Pete Walton, of asburypark.net fame, bounced out, accompanied by two people I'd never seen.

"This is Bob Crane and Deborah Robinson of Save Tillie," Pete called up. "They were wondering if you and Dave could help them design a Tillie t-shirt that they could use as a fund-raiser."

"Bob Crane from 'Hogan's Heroes'?" I chirped brightly. "I thought he died!"

"Ha, ha. Like you're the first one who ever thought of that," Bob sighed.

Oops. So much for first impressions.

Little did I dream that Bob - and Debbie - would get plenty of opportunity to pay me back. Over the next few years, Dave and I sold and shipped over a thousand Save Tillie benefit tees from our Cookman Avenue gallery.

And in April, 1999, we hosted a Palace exhibit and Save Tillie fund-raiser that featured everyone from local radio personalities, to former Springsteen drummer Vini Lopez, to Tillie himself in a giant paper-mache head.

And Bob was probably responsible for my slim 2001 city council win. "Sign waving," he told me. "Stand out on Main Street on election day, and wave one of your campaign signs at passing cars." Debbie gamely did the same at the far end of town.

"I've just seen two sunburned Kate Mellinas waving signs," one confused motorist told me. "Which of you is real?" Why am I a Palace fan? Probably because I was born in the 1950s and I actually love those silly, cartoonish graphics that scream innocent good times and goofy bad taste. And because I didn't live here when the Palace was open, I don't share many residents' bad memories of it as the seedy place your mother declared off-limits.

But it wasn't until I encountered that dedicated species known as the Bruce Springsteen fan that I understood the economic and sentimental impact of the building's peeling funny face.

In two short years, our gallery sold hundreds of Tillie-decorated drinking glasses, prints, shirts, beach bags, silver pins, plastic earrings, and metal wall-hooks, all designed by local artists.

The most outrageous objects? A handmade wool Tillie rug, designed by Dave and me, that sold for over $1,000, and Laura Tunis's wacky dried gourds with painted Tillie faces and black feather hair. (One man bought one as a 50th anniversary gift for his wife. I hope they're still married.)

And the obsession wasn't just local: our Tillie objects improbably grace homes from Sweden to Australia and from Italy to Japan. Just think what that means in goodwill and potential tourist dollars for Asbury Park, particularly since the international Save Tillie troop has donated to everything from our city library to the Boys & Girls Club.

So for four days last week, I was once again pacing in the sun, watching with trepidation as volunteer/superman Gary Loveland, his brother Randy, and the Universal Fabricators crew carefully cut out the foot-thick image and encased it in steel bars for its trip from the Palace.

There were a few last-minute knots, of course: A hunt to find a new temporary home after Gary decided that Tillie couldn't be squeezed into the Casino. A gracious rescue by JCP&L's Ed Sherman to tame some threatening electrical wires. A Thursday afternoon storm that set the clock back on Gary's perfectly orchestrated schedule.

And, just to prove Tillie's enduring economic value, Asbury Hardware cheerfully reported the sale of multiple $50 drill bits to Gary's tenacious team.

But at approximately 2:15 p.m. on Friday afternoon, the seemingly impossible occurred: crane operator Sash Francese smoothly lifted the 12,000 pound image straight up through the Palace wall and deposited it safely on Gary's waiting truck.

Relief turned to glee a few minutes later when I looked up and saw Asbury Park attorney (and, truthfully, nice guy) Tom DeSeno watching the proceedings.

"That's him!" I cried, grabbing him by the tie. "The guy who wrote all the 'Kill Tillie' articles for the triCity News!" Lucky for me, Tommy doesn't have a weak heart.

Has this been a tough few weeks for me? Yes, it has. Did I dream for years about saving the entire building, which was slated for demolition in the 1980s? Absolutely. But despite an international campaign by Save Tillie - including a celebrated real estate ad on eBay - no one seriously stepped forward to purchase and preserve the existing structure. (And, no, I don't think Asbury Partners' asking price was unreasonable.)

And, much to my personal dismay, most of the architects and planners I consulted considered it an unremarkable building, down to the original carousel portion, which lost a wall or two and had its remaining walls remodeled in the 1950s when the Tillie portion was added.

And while it would confuse Tillie's international fans, I've actually had many more city residents and business owners congratulate me over the crumbling building's demise than lament its end.

Save Tillie has vowed to stay together until a planned Palace-like structure is built, and the original images and lettering incorporated into the new building. (I would also love to see a local drive to purchase and return the original Palace Ferris wheel to Asbury Park.)

So here's to Save Tillie board members Bob Crane, Deborah Robinson, Carl Beams, Dan Toskaner, Maggie Powell, Chris Phillips, Rick Mariani, Tom Dobbins, and a worldwide cast of volunteers who have become my cherished friends in the often contradictory place we call Asbury Park. I salute you.