How Lila Speciner, formerly of Long Island, escaped the north tower on 9/11 — and survived

Lila Speciner did not panic.

She didn't know it yet, but American Airlines Flight 11 had just struck the north tower of the World Trade Center, a few floors above where she had started her work day on the 88th floor with a cup of coffee. Speciner was working in the real estate division of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.

Smoke filled the room, ceiling tiles fell to the floor and the doorways were skewed. Speciner assumed a small tourist plane had struck the tower by accident. Then she heard another plane had hit the south tower.

Frank DiMartini, who was working in the north tower that day, urged Speciner and others to climb over the pile of debris and start walking down the stairs. DiMartini died in the attacks.

"We just kept moving down the stairs," Speciner, who was living in Melville at the time and now lives in Boynton Beach, Florida, said in an interview. "The stairwells were lit. As we made our way down more floors, more people on lower floors were able to come in. My recollection is that it was a very orderly descent, and I don't remember pushing, or shoving, or panic. We just kept walking."

The terrorist attack resulted in the deaths of 2,977 victims. She tells her story of survival in a new History Channel documentary, "102 Minutes Inside the Towers," that debuts Friday at 8 p.m.

'Live your life'

The special leans on untold survivor stories and computer-generated imagery reconstruction to give visuals from inside the towers. 

"It puts viewers in the shoes of a range of people spread throughout the towers, including those such as Lila who were just below the impact zone," Ashley Potterton, an executive producer of the documentary, said in an email. 

A slew of documentaries have captured a range of 9/11 perspectives, but many survivors haven't shared their stories publicly. With some of those people growing older, Potterton said it was important to preserve their memories of what took place that day. 

"There is a rawness to the film designed to let the stories of these individuals take center stage, so I hope our project conveys that," said Potterton, who added the documentary team spent months tracking down its subjects. 

Speciner said she was inspired to live her life with urgency in the aftermath.

"This is your life. Live your life. This is not a dress rehearsal," Speciner, 85, said. "People went to work that day and didn't come home."

'Total darkness'

Speciner walked all 88 floors with her secretary, who is legally blind, hanging on to her side, until they made it to the concourse, which was below the main level. Then she heard what sounded like a "train moving through the building, and then all the lights went out."

"It was total darkness. You couldn't see your hand in front of you" Speciner said. "A whoosh of air actually picked me up and moved me to another spot. I found out later that that was the south tower collapsing."

Speciner eventually made it outside, which was full of debris, flying papers and smoke. She kept walking until she reached her daughter-in-law's office on 34th Street. There, she watched the collapse on television. Speciner, who had previously lived in East Northport, went home that night to her now late husband, Martin, in their Melville apartment. 

A few years later, a friend alerted her to a website that had been set up with items retrieved from the wreckage. Four family photos that had been on Speciner's desk had survived the attack.

These days, the photos sit in a filing cabinet in her garage, along with an edition of People magazine that featured a photo of Speciner and her secretary walking outside. She rarely looks at them, she said.

Speciner doesn't often speak about her experiences that day. Most of her neighbors don't know she was there, she said. She doesn't like to relive it. But on Friday, after Rosh Hashanah dinner, she will gather with family and watch the History Channel special.

"It's important to tell the story," she said. "Not just mine, but everybody's."

Newsday's Joseph Ostapiuk contributed to this story.