NATCHEZ &8212; Hairbrushes, toothbrushes and the faces of loved-ones searching for the tiniest answers are all part of Doug Mauro&8217;s memories of Sept. 11, 2001, and the many days following.

Five years after what he

calls &8220;that horrible day,&8221; those memories are as crystal clear as the blue skies

from which the two planes slammed into the World Trade Center towers that morning.

Sitting in his Natchez bed and breakfast, Mauro recently recalled those events that were ultimately the deciding factor in his move from his boyhood home in New Jersey to Natchez.

Living only 15-minutes from Manhattan, Mauro worked as a lab technician for LabCorp, a national laboratory company that specializes in DNA testing.

Soon after Sept. 11, LabCorp offered free DNA testing to victims&8217; families so that they might be able to

identify the bits and pieces of human remains from the tragedy.

Mauro was named a company liaison, who met with families to gather DNA evidence to match with whatever unidentified remains were discovered in the wreckage.

&8220;I would greet the familes and actually speak to them,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;They would bring hair samples, toothbrushes and hairbrushes, anything that would have DNA.&8221;

With the physical evidence, Mauro also remembers the desperate sense of wanting

closure from the many, many families of victims that he met.

&8220;You saw it in their eyes,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;You didn&8217;t know what to say. You didn&8217;t want to be condescending.&8221;

&8220;A lot of times you ended up just hugging them,&8221; he said.

New World

Outside work, there were other constant reminders.

From Ground Zero, smoke drifted southward from Manhattan across the bay into New Jersy.

&8220;You could smell the smoke for months,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;For weeks and weeks it burned.&8221;

&8220;It smelled like an electrical burn,&8221; He said. &8220;And then when they started using disinfectant, you smelled this horrible chemical smell.&8221;

And then there were the funerals.

More than 2,000 people died in the World Trade Center, according to the Associated Press victims database. In Monmouth County, N.J., where Mauro worked, more than 140 families had loved ones who never returned home that day.

&8220;For two years, every day there would be 20 to 30 funerals,&8221; Mauro said.

Many of the families would have two services, one as memorial service and then another as a funeral service when any remains were found.

&8220;It was horrible. It never ended,&8221; Mauro said.

Thankfully, Mauro did not personally know anyone who died at the World Trade Center.

But he didn&8217;t have to look very far outside his circle of family and friends to find names of victims

he recognized.

A fireman who was an acquaintance, members of his church, students who graduated from his school were but a few.

The wife of the best man in his brother&8217;s wedding worked in the second tower.

&8220;(Her husband) was on the phone telling her to just get out of there,&8221; Mauro said.

&8220;It was emotional,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;Everything changed, for me, anyway.&8221;

Mauro remembered traveling to New York City after the tragedy and looking at the skyline.

&8220;It was like us looking at the Mississippi River

and then all of a sudden it is not there anymore,&8221; Mauro said of the World Trade Center towers he had known all of his life.

Just as his memories of Sept. 11 have not faded over the past five years, neither have his views of patriotism and the War on Terror.

&8220;It&8217;s become such a politically correct world today that it is hard to tell the truth anymore,&8221; Mauro said.

&8220;What happened, happened and it could happen again,&8221; Mauro said.

&8220;Homeland security takes precedence over everything else,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;There are Islamic fascists that want to kill us and a lot of people do not recognize that.&8221;

&8220;Freedom has a price. We have to be vigilant,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;If we get hit again, it will be in New York,&8221; he said.

New Life

Growing up in Asbury Park, N.J., the town for Mauro was always a friendly place.

Even before Sept. 11, the town was changing. The area was building up quickly. New people were moving in and property taxes were increasing at a phenomenal rate.

&8220;It was a place I didn&8217;t recognize as my home anymore,&8221; Mauro said.

His parents had already died and he was getting tired of the winters.

Already, Mauro was considering a move away from the only town in which he had ever lived.

&8220;Then 9/11 hit,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;That was the deciding factor. After that it wasn&8217;t that nice anymore.&8221;

So, after a visit to New Orleans and a side trip to Natchez, Mauro decided where he wanted to move.

In 2004, Mauro relocated to Natchez and bought Oak Hill, an antebellum house that he has turned into a bed and breakfast.

Since then, he has found many of the qualities in the town that were lost from his New Jersey hometown.

The slow pace, the fact that he knows most of his neighbors, the friendliness of residents and many other small-town qualities reassure Mauro that he made the right decision to move to Natchez.

&8220;I feel safer here,&8221; Mauro said. &8220;This reminds me of where I was born in the 60s.&8221;