Levene.

The last night of Jordan Rasmussen's life wasn't especially remarkable.

The only reason anyone finds it memorable is because those who love him

most say it perfectly encapsulates who he was. No one remembers exactly what time the

32-year-old accountant pulled into the driveway of his single-story home the night of March 4th, 1982.

But they do remember it was late enough that two of his children were already asleep.

Jordan was working late when he received an unexpected phone

call. That call would change his plans for the following morning, and that change of plans

would cost Jordan Rasmussen his life.

When he walked into the house, he found a familiar scene. His eight-year-old son and his five-year-old daughter in bed,

while his youngest, 16-month-old Chad, was wide awake.

His wife, Diane, wasn't home.

She was playing indoor tennis with a friend, leaving the children in the care of a babysitter.

And as he often did, Chad was protesting bedtime.

Deans remembers it was her husband who unlocked the secret of getting Chad to sleep.

Neighbors remember seeing Jordan almost every night, walking Chad around the block, trying to get him to sleep.

Was he fussy, maybe? He didn't want to go to sleep?

So that was kind of their nightly ritual.

But it was already dark that night,

so Jordan offered to drive the babysitter to her house, just a couple of blocks away.

And he brought Chad along for the ride.

But when they returned home, Jordan realized the doors were locked, and he didn't have his key.

...