Once in a while, early in the morning, I'll see them out of the corner of my eye as I drive by to my important destination. The Ones Who Wait, I call them. Fifteen or 20 men usually, sometimes more, most of them young, most of them with caps, heavy shoes and work jackets. Mexican men, Nicaraguans, Dominicans and others waiting to see if they will work today.

They're gone by the time most people are driving to work. Near my house, they stand in the parking lot of a Blockbuster Video. There's a Wendy's on Northern Boulevard, the Town Dock in Port Washington. Just about every community has a place, or is near a place, where men wait.

They wait to be chosen for day work by the men in the trucks. The trucks have the names of local landscaping companies on their doors. They pick and choose three, four, five men and off they all go.

A few times, I've parked and watched. I've even followed.

No big surprises. They moved from house to house, neighborhood to neighborhood, keeping the Gold Coast golden. These men will operate dangerously loud blowers and mowers with no protective head gear, they will sometimes handle toxic chemicals with no protection or preparation. They will work for minimum wage, no benefits, no protections. They support their families. They sleep at night and go back to the corner to wait again, perhaps six days a week.

All of Long Island's problems are magnified for these people. Even if some are here without legal papers, and most of them are here legally, they pay more than their share in property taxes through startlingly high rents, often in unsafe conditions. They sometimes are told not to turn on lights, not to use the stove, not to go outside. If public transportation is poor, these people know it. If there is illness, there will at best be emergency room care, and no relatives to watch sick kids. They want their children to be educated, so that they too will not wait on those corners. They dream of being citizens, to vote, to be counted. If not for them, then for their children.

And Long Island's economy would shrivel and die if not for these and the many other immigrants with their own stories, some in totally different circumstances. Much of our economy is dependent on their labor, our local commerce on their spending. Unlike some of my neighbors, I like the idea of my hometown of New Hyde Park being one of the Island's most diverse places. It's a great place to raise a child because of it.

But the Ones Who Wait will wait for many years for that Civil Service job that will, for the first time in their lives, provide health benefits. They will wait many years to be accepted as neighbors, visible people, in some neighborhoods. They are not the only poor people around these parts. Far from it. Most of Long Island's poor are white natives, born and raised here. The men I describe are just the most visible yet strangely unseen, standing in lots, walking around our houses with their equipment.

We live in a time when public discussion of helping the poor has virtually disappeared. Poor people have an obligation to work, to contribute. Prosperous people have an obligation to open doors, reward effort, share public treasure to ensure a decent living for anyone who works hard and plays fair. Neither major party's presidential candidate made a serious effort to address growing poverty in the supposed "boom economy." After two decades of public meanness, even the phrases and symbols of caring are disappearing.

Perhaps all this means nothing. All I know for sure is that tomorrow the men will be on that corner. Waiting.