You may know Marty Wombacher from his popular blog, Meanwhile Back In Peoria.
That blog celebrates his return to his hometown, but on Sept. 11, 2001, Wombacher was living in New York City, just blocks away from Ground Zero.
He told WCBU Correspondent Steve Tarter about his recollections from that day:
MARTY WOMBACHER: On that day, what happened was, I was working a third shift job. So I went to bed in the morning and slept through the whole day. Usually, on this day, I went to bed I think probably like 8:30, right after it happened, I think. But I didn't see it. So I didn't know what had happened.
And I kept trying to fall asleep. But my phone kept clicking, because people were calling me and I had my phone machine down, so I couldn't hear the messages. I finally got up after like an hour of this. And I thought who is calling me? And I hit the tape.
I always tell people I kind of wish in a morbid way I would have saved it, because people were crying. But nobody told me what had happened. All I heard was 'are you okay? Oh my god. I know you live in downtown New York. The films look horrible.'
STEVE TARTER: You weren't far from it, right?
MARTY WOMBACHER: No. And I could walk there in like 10 minutes. But nobody said what had happened. So when they finally ended, I remember just standing in my apartment all alone thinking what is out there, and imagining the apocalypse. I was kind of right.
So I walked out, but it faced the East Side of New York. So I walk over, open the little door and I looked out and it looked fine. It was a nice day. I heard sirens. But you always hear sirens in New York. So I thought, well, maybe it wasn't that bad.
Well, then I went over to my little TV with my little remote and turned it on. And there's the shot of the plane flying into the Twin Towers. But I couldn't like process it. So what I did was I changed the channel, thinking that I would just make it go away. And I kept clicking and then I turned it off.
And by now it's like one on 1:30 in the afternoon. I still haven't been outside and I was kind of half afraid to go out. So I went out I looked on 16th Street between 5th and 6th. So now I'll never forget this. I went to Sixth Avenue and there were just throngs of people walking towards downtown to look at it, all with this stupid look on their face.
When I turned and faced downtown, the sky was brown. I had never seen a sky that color. And I think I went into shock then. They said pretty much everyone in New York probably went into shock at one time or another. So I walked down there, and I got as close as you could. And I saw people with like powder all over and they got out. And I thought, I don't want to be here.
My memories from then on are just kind of like these little snapshot memories.
For me the interesting part ... there was a deli on the way home. And I used to stop in there after being in the Stone Crow to get like a couple more beers to take home. And I don't know when he worked, the overnight shift. But there was this little Chinese guy that worked in there. And he always had a scowl on his face. He would yell at you. It was like something out of a Seinfeld episode. Because it was the same thing. Every time I'd get the beer, he would just be scowling. I put it (the beer) down. He'd run it up for $4.75, scream at me, and then I give him like a $10. And then he would throw the change on the counter; it would bounce off. And this is every time.
And so I'm walking home and I'm like I thought I only had a couple beers in my house and I only got to have a couple more beers. So I went in there and now there he is. But now he doesn't have the scowl. He's not smiling. But he looked at me and he like for the first time he nodded in my direction and I saw. I nodded back, bought my beer, put up on the counter and he rang up it up. I give him my money. He places my change on the counter. And I used to have to ask him to put it in a bag and that drove him nuts. But he puts the beer in a bag and then he folds it.
I put my hand to grab it and he put his hand on top of mine. He says "you be safe out there, okay?" I mean, it's still kind of chokes me up when I think about it. Because I went out to Sixth Avenue and I just nodded at him because I was about to start crying. I walked out to Sixth Avenue, and I think it was everything had built up in me. I started bawling like a baby. And I went home and I remember going home sitting on my futon with my beer, and I opened it and I looked at the clock and was like, five after 12. (I thought), man so glad this day is over.
But it really wasn't over, kind of like what we've learned in this pandemic, things can go on and on. It didn't really seem normal again until like about a week before Thanksgiving.
I'm walking home. And there's the deli. And I thought, I wonder what he's like now. I walk in, (and his) hands are on his hips, scowl on his face. I get the beer, he rings it up for $4.75. I give him the money. He throws the change again. I'm going, "geez, what's wrong with you?" And I looked at the beer and like, 'will you put it in a bag?' and he shoved it in a bag. I remember he rolled it up.
He's like, now you get out of the store. And he said that to me. And I kind of smiled. So I picked up the beer. But this time I remember just started laughing, and I thought 'I think it's finally over.'
STEVE TARTER: Did you sort of revisit the scene at any time?
MARTY WOMBACHER: No, I've never gone back down there. Friends of mine would come out and they'd say they'd want to go to Ground Zero. And I'm like, I don't ever want to go there again. Because I'm afraid. I was so freaked out when I went there. And I just have no desire.
I don't know anybody that lives there that has ever gone down.
STEVE TARTER: Just sort of hallowed ground, so to speak.
MARTY WOMBACHER: Kind of, yeah. And I just I don't want to. it'll bring back those memories. There were there were there were some bad weeks there.
And one thing that a lot of people don't know there was this smell in the air and it sounds gross, but from, you know, hair, bodies, the building. And it would go away. But it went on for like two weeks. But if it rained, it would come back.
It was really something to have been there and lived through it.
And one thing, which I worked with a Vietnam vet once and he said, "you know what really grinds my gears, when somebody says to me, 'Oh, I know exactly how that must have been for you.'"
Because he's like, "nobody knows what it was like, but us that were there."
I came home for Christmas. And I did have to bite my tongue. A number of people said, 'Oh, I was watching on TV. I know exactly how you must have felt.' I know you have no idea.
This interview transcript was condensed for length and clarity.
