When you read a true-crime story, and specific dates are listed do you try to remember, in general, where you lived or what you may have been doing on that day?

I’m reading an Ann Rule book. So sad. But she’ll throw out dates like, October 12 1985, and I think to my self, “I was probably holding my 3 month old baby, or giving her a bath…” Or 1995 “That was the year my grandson was born.” It’s kind of weird to know that you were just going on with your life, doing all kinds of mundane things while somebody was getting killed….