Some stories stay with you longer than others

In more than 35 years in this business, you would think this kind of thing would no longer bother me.

It does.

It's the one kind of story that I just can't shake.

There probably was a time, when I was just getting into the business, when it didn't hit me as hard. As I always tell young reporters just getting into the business, that all changes when you have kids.

Three decades later, there is still nothing more unnatural than a parent losing a child.

I have raised two children, put them through college, and I still can't imagine the ordeal the family of Karlie Hall is enduring.

Police say she was beaten and strangled by her boyfriend in her dorm room at Millersville University over the weekend. Hall lived in Chadds Ford. She graduated last spring from Unionville High School. Her boyfriend, Gregorio Orrostieta, of Kennett Square, now is charged with her murder. You can read all the details here.

I actually spent much of yesterday morning trying to determine whether Hall lived here in Delaware Cou

nty, or in Chester County. It turns out some kids who live in Chadds Ford Township here in Delco can still attend Unionville High. It was during this that I actually had to stop and remind myself, "Does it really make any difference?" Karlie Hall was 18 years old. She loved animals, volunteered at LaMancha Animal Rescue in Unionville. She was described by the principal of Unionville High as someone who was always looking to help others.

I somehow managed to put two children through college. In the many phone calls with them over those eight years, I always ended the conversations the same way.

"Please be safe."

You try to separate your job from feelings in this racket. If you don't you can find yourself looking for another line of work pretty quick.

But that doesn't work when it comes to your children.

I wish there was something I could say or do that would ease the pain Karlie Hall's family is suffering.

Instead you go home and you call your kids. You tell them you love them. And you try not to imagine what some other people are enduring at the very same time.