Gary Thorpe thinks less and less about the events of Sept. 11, 2001, but when his mind inexorably creeps backward, it's the bodies he remembers - the bodies that improbably fell from the sky on that nightmarish day.

"The images of these people coming out and hitting the ground with a plop is what sticks with me," said Thorpe, who was attending a conference in the World Trade Center the day of the attacks. "I try not to think about it, but when I do, that's the first thing that comes to mind."

For others, it's the acrid smell, the squeal of metal buckling. It's the howl of fire, it's gray figures running, it's a pregnant woman retching, it's paper raining down as if in a giant snow globe.

Marylanders who survived the attacks at the Pentagon or the World Trade Center say those images still come, forceful and unbidden. But for many those dark daydreams are, finally, less persistent. They say they're less jumpy, less watchful. They've healed a little or a lot; they've rebuilt.

But they are not the same, most say, never will be. Some are still physically sick; some are emotionally adrift. Others say they're more patriotic or more mellow, or their priorities have shifted.

Thorpe, 68, then a Severna Park resident, rushed out of a breakfast meeting when the first plane struck. He stood across the street from the towers scanning the crowd for his wife and daughter, who had joined him on his business trip.

That was when people started throwing themselves out windows. A man and woman leapt holding hands; someone inched along the outside of the building before slipping and plunging.

He saw the second plane hit, and then, when the south tower started to collapse, he ran. He ran for his life, he said, dodging huge chunks of steel and rock.

"It was chaos, fear," he said. Paper was blowing as if it were a ticker-tape parade. He didn't see the second tower fall because the air had turned black.

After wandering alone for hours as if in a dream, he finally reunited with his family.

Thorpe, who was Maryland's assistant comptroller for years, used to think he would stop working when he was laid in a box. But two years after the Sept. 11 attacks, he retired and moved to Florida with his wife.

"I think I realized that life is pretty precious," he said. "I don't see the need to achieve like I used to. I'm kind of more at peace with myself."

In a small community near Fort Myers, he volunteers, he plays golf, he travels, he spends time with family. He reads a lot - not the English history he used to love but about the relationship between the Muslim and Western world. "I'm certainly looking for some personal understanding," he said. "And the more I read the more pessimistic I get and probably the more conservative."

Gripped with fear
She would have been eating breakfast right where the plane hit. But because she was running late that day, Wanda Ramey, a police officer at the Pentagon, was sitting outside in a security booth when the plane swooped out of the sky. She tried to say something, but no words came out.

"It was like the building had sucked the plane inside it," she said. She wasn't sure whether she had seen what she had seen. Seconds passed, and then there was a boom.

"That's when I knew it was definitely happening," said Ramey, 38, of Waldorf. "I wasn't quite here anymore after that."

For months after witnessing what she thought might be the end of the world, Ramey was gripped with fear. "My mind went and just ran with it," she said. "I was really convinced that bin Laden was after me personally."

She'd sleep under the bed or in her closet at night and was afraid, after a while, even to go to the grocery store. Ramey stopped working and retired on disability. Her two young children worried that she "was going downhill and wasn't going to come back," she said.