In fact, Forrey was alive and intact, but he did start a fire in the Griest Building that forced 100 people to evacuate and caused $280,000 in damage.

At 32, Forrey was in one of the full-blown psychotic episodes that had plagued him periodically since he was 25 because he refused to accept his bipolar disorder diagnosis and treatment.

Fast forward 17 years to Friday evening, Nov. 4. Bob Forrey stood before a full banquet room at the Fairmont Hotel in Washington, D.C., to accept a national award from Eli Lilly and Company.

Forrey, 49, won a second-place Inspiration Award for personal achievements he has made since he accepted his disease and became serious about treating his illness five years ago.

The award came with a trophy and a $2,500 donation to the charity of Forrey's choice ---Compeer Lancaster, an organization that matches volunteer friends with people who have a mental illness. Forrey is on Compeer's advisory committee and is becoming a volunteer.

"I experience so much gratitude to be where I'm at," said Forrey who now lives near Intercourse with his wife and two stepsons. "I think the suffering of the past fuels the desire to give back."

Forrey's life has been full of suffering, both for himself and the people who loved him -- especially when his illness spiraled out of control.

"I have been divorced twice and I am on my third marriage," Forrey wrote in a summary of his life he uses when he tells his story to people in the community. "I have been in and out of hospitals several times. I have self-medicated with alcohol, tobacco and illicit drugs."

But none of his suffering was as public as it was on May 17, 1988.

Forrey hadn't slept for three days, a common denominator for people with bipolar disorder who are cycling into hypomania and mania. They can be enjoyable phases of the disease because a person can feel invincible, highly creative, productive and free of all inhibitions.

Typically the manic phases give way to a deep depression, but for Forrey, mania turns into psychosis first. At 4 a.m. that morning, Forrey was watching 1/2-inch little men inside lightning bugs at Lancaster County Park.

He had lunch with his mother, who spoke of his late father's real estate deal that had gone sour about 1970 and ended up in court. Forrey decided to go to the Griest Building to see if he could find proof that the opposing attorney had lied in court.

"It was a big building. I was not to be there," wrote Forrey in his memoir, describing what was going through his mind. "But I had to see. I had a hunch. All kinds of records."

He ended up on the 14th floor, where he began to hear sounds no one else could hear.

"Then a mighty rushing noise. The building was going to take off. It was so loud. I shouldn't have been there. Two guys came in. What did they want?"

According to newspaper records, two maintenance workers saw Forrey removing pictures from frames on the 14th floor. One of them said Forrey told them: "You better leave before I change into a wolf, or something like that."

After they left, Forrey said, he went to the records and lit several pieces of paper on fire. "I was so angry, frustrated and confused," he wrote.

Police picked up Forrey a short time later and took him to the police station, where sometimes he understood what was going on and sometimes did not, he said.

The insidious nature of psychosis, Forrey said, is that reality slides seamlessly into psychotic reality without any warning that it's happening. One state is as real to him as the other.

So when Forrey saw an open door, he thought God was showing him the way out. "I pushed my escort against the wall and ran," he said.

Newspaper records of his preliminary hearing said six police officers and the fire lieutenant helped subdue him.

The incident marked the beginning of four long years of incarceration and court-ordered mental health treatment. Besides the humiliation, lack of privacy and fear for his life, Forrey said the time was marked by overwhelming feelings of isolation.

"I saw how (the inmates) treated other people who are nuts, and it's not cool. They just treated them like jerks: Laugh at them, talk about them right in front of them," said Forrey, who experienced all the same things.

"We all want to belong. We all want to feel like part of things, even though the other people are 'criminals.'"

The one place Forrey did not want to belong was in the ranks of the mentally ill. So even after his release from prison in 1992, he continued to deny his illness until he was hospitalized in late 1999.

For some reason -- he's not really sure why -- he then was willing to accept his illness and agreed to continue taking his medication -- an antidepressant, an antipsychotic and lithium for bipolar disorder.

"It took a while for us to get our marriage back on track because of mistrust on both of our parts," said his wife, Aggie Forrey. She was responsible for getting her husband committed involuntarily to a psychiatric hospital

Although he is still a person that Aggie describes as "high maintenance," she credits him with bringing stability to her sons' lives now that he accepts his illness.

"When he's well, he's a gentleman. He's non-confrontational. He's very kind, giving, quiet and responsible," she said. When conflict comes up, he's gentle and quiet, Aggie said. He never yells. He just says, 'How can we fix this?'"

The two of them take the same approach to Forrey's illness, which always has the potential to rear its ugly head. They are both alert for triggers -- marital problems, extreme religious interest, lack of sleep, stress -- that can stir it up.

Twice in the past three years, Forrey said, he had signs of mania that were squelched because they recognized the signs.

Professionally, Forrey is now executive director of Consumer Satisfaction Team of Lancaster County. The organization surveys mental health consumers to find out how well county resources are meeting their needs. Forrey takes the combined information back to the agencies and organizations so improvements can be made.

Eric H. Eshleman, psychotherapist and executive director of Behavioral Healthcare Consultants, was president of CST's board of directors during Forrey's first year on the job in 2003. Together they helped the organization transition from being a "child" of Montgomery County's CST to its own self-governed organization.

Eshleman said Forrey has a way of simplifying complex situations and directing people toward a solution.

"He's very down to earth. He has a nice demeanor for dealing with stressful situations," Eshleman said.

Forrey's entrepreneurial mind keeps him alert to opportunities for CST to grow, Eshleman said, just like he does in his personal life. Some people define themselves by their diagnosis and the insults and hurts they have experienced, but Forrey doesn't.

"He embraces the world going forward as though good things will happen," Eshleman said.

Forrey sees his current life as one of redemption. He welcomes opportunities to use his past for good.

"I question why I have a mental illness. Why did I have to go to prison? Why did I do these various things? I think there's a purpose to it," Forrey said.

That's why he shared his experience at a police training on mental illness, befriends and advocates for people who have mental illness, tells his story in the community and takes graduate classes in counseling psychology.

"I think what weighs on me is that I want my life to make a difference. I never would have guessed that this is the way that would occur. In my mind, I think, if I can rescue people from their difficulties, that will be really cool."

Forrey's dramatic turnaround was the first thing that came to mind when Sarah Myers, program director of Compeer, learned about the Eli Lilly Reintegration Awards. She and Mary Steffy, executive director of the Mental Health Association, nominated him for the inspiration award.

"Going to Washington, this whole thing is so amazing," said Forrey. "Winning this Eli Lilly award with basically a story like this ... is such a culmination of events of my life to date, it makes me wonder where we go from here. Because I'm available. If it's happening, I want to be there."

Linda Espenshade's e-mail address is lespenshade@lnpnews.com