But there are cases that are simply beyond comprehension; murders, accidents and savage illnesses that randomly cut short lives with a brutality that defies explanation.

There are some senseless deaths that touch us all, that jump from the private sorrow of those who know the victim to public grieving from those who don't.

These are the tragedies that strike a chord with the community, whether because of the circumstances of the death or the nature of the victim.

Often the sympathy from strangers surges immediately then fades as quickly as yesterday's headlines.

And then there are cases where the emotions lead to more than just Facebook tributes but a desire to right a wrong or find some good out of senseless evil.

As a result of the 2006 suicide of Brodie Panlock (pictured below), who jumped to her death after a vile campaign of humiliation by work "colleagues", the government introduced a potential 10-year jail term for workplace bullying that is known as "Brodie's Law".

The 1997 murder of mother of three Jane Thurgood-Dove (pictured below), shot dead in the driveway of her Niddrie home in a mistaken identity murder remains unsolved (although the former lawyer who organised the inept hit remains fit and well).

Jane's father, the thoroughly decent John Magill, in desperation asked me to help persuade the government to put up a million dollar reward for his daughter's murder.

There was no chance of such a one-off act but the then-premier, Steve Bracks, agreed to a broader scheme where a million dollars could be offered in specific cases.

Four days before the Thurgood-Dove murder, another woman, Mersina Halvagis, was stabbed to death at the Fawkner Cemetery. The million dollar reward fund, initiated by John Magill, eventually helped convict her killer.

Now police regularly offer the reward in cold case murder investigations.

The 2012 murder of Jill Meagher (pictured below), abducted and killed by serial sex offender Adrian Bayley as she walked to her Brunswick home, sparked widespread public outrage.

It also forced much-needed reforms to the parole system, which was so chronically underfunded it routinely allowed dangerous offenders to remain free.

The 2003 death of Julie Ramage, killed at the hands of her bullying husband in their Balwyn home, was somehow downgraded from murder to manslaughter.

The offender, James Ramage, served only eight years after delivering a statement to police that could have been from a legal text on the best provocation defence. As a result the government removed such a pathetic defence from the criminal code.

When she found she was dying of skin cancer Clare Oliver, 26, (pictured below) devoted her last days to raising awareness to the dangers of tanning salons. After her death in 2007 commercial sunbeds were finally banned, which has undeniably saved lives.

On July 3 this year Adelaide Football coach Phillip Walsh (pictured below) was killed in his suburban home. His son, Cy, 26, was later charged with his murder although his psychiatric condition prevented police conducting a formal interview.

The tragedy of the Walsh family is one repeated around Australia – where parents battle to care for teenage and adult kids, who, through drugs or psychotic conditions, are out of control.

We know of:

• A parent forced to wrestle his 150cm tall step-daughter to the ground as she threatened to attack her mother with a knife.
• Police finding a young man dead from an overdose in a filthy and empty flat. The father had furnished the apartment three times only for his son to sell it all for drugs.
• A family changing the locks in a failed attempt to keep their daughter from breaking in to steal.

While random attacks by strangers draw the headlines, you are more likely to be killed by a family member than anyone else.

Walsh was a respected football man, first as a player representing Collingwood, Richmond and Brisbane and later as a coach for Geelong, Port Adelaide and West Coast before taking the 2015 senior job in Adelaide.

Over his time in the game he mentored hundreds of young men who looked to him for guidance. The awful irony is he was allegedly killed by the one he hoped would be the closest.

The death shattered his club and impacted on the broader football community. There were many tributes, including the Hawthorn and Collingwood players linking arms in silent reflection just moments after their hard-fought game on the very day of his death:

At the Adelaide versus Port Adelaide game the best player was awarded the Phil Walsh medal, presented by his daughter, Quinn.

Such gestures are touching but transitory. They may make us feel better but they actually change nothing.

There was another dedicated and decent man whose violent death created huge community grief. His name was Donald Mackay (below) and he was brave enough to try and expose a drug cartel in his home town of Griffith. In 1977 he paid with his life and his body has never been found.

The initial investigation was flawed, some of the local cops were bent and the Italian-based Honoured Society members behind the crime had influence all the way into federal cabinet.

But Mackay's friends would not be silenced – forming a group called the Concerned Citizens of Griffith. Nine years after his murder they lobbied for him to receive a posthumous Order of Australia to recognise his sacrifice. But another speaker at the anniversary meeting that night privately suggested another way.

He said the group's anger should be channelled into something positive and permanent. Why not set up a Churchill Fellowship in Mackay's name so that each year an investigator could study the world's best methods to combat organised crime.

How do I know? The speaker was my father, the former head of the Australian Bureau of Criminal Intelligence, Fred Silvester.

The Concerned Citizens of Griffith helped raise the funds and for the past 25 years investigators (usually detectives) have studied areas such as asset recovery, surveillance, docklands security and intelligence sharing. It has made a difference.

The then NSW police commissioner, John Avery described the Mackay Fellowship as "one of the most dynamically relevant memorials ever conceived to honour an individual".

Hundreds of Australians have won Churchill Fellowships in the past50 years with half the initial funds raised on February 28, 1965, when 220,000 volunteers knocked on doors around Australia.

And so to Phil Walsh. What better permanent tribute than a Churchill Fellowship in his name that reflects the positive benefits of sport to the community.

We sometimes concentrate on the negatives of professional sport, the bickering, the tantrums and the latest storm in the teacup.

But it usually enriches the lives of the participants and captures the imagination of those who observe. It can be a harmless diversion or life-changing.

In Australia sport can be passionate, occasionally selfish (think tennis brats) and divisive (such as the Essendon drug saga) but more often it is entertaining, bonding and inspiring.

In country towns, the sporting clubs often become the very social hub of the community, supported by volunteers who donate hundreds of hours to keep them alive.

Watch the kids in the surf doing Nippers (below, at Warrnambool), playing beach cricket with their families or in the parks playing Auskick and you see sport is more than winning and losing.

Certainly in much of Australia it is a social lubricant where your choice of footy team is more important than your choice of prime minister. Where a Cyril Rioli hanger is more exciting than a Bronwyn Bishop chopper trip.

The Phil Walsh Churchill Fellowship would not be designed to improve elite sport but to use recreation for the betterment of physical, mental and community health.

It would seem a perfect fit. After all he had a reputation for his insatiable thirst for knowledge, constantly relating life lessons to sporting endeavours and as a lateral thinker.

It would not be about breaking records but breaking barriers. There is a group of police who regularly play against African lads in Melbourne's inner west in a scratch competition. It is to show that everyone is equal (at least on the pitch).

To raise the money to fund the permanent scholarship we could dedicate the last round of the home and away season to Phil Walsh with volunteer collectors at AFL, suburban and country games with the AFL joining in on a dollar for dollar basis.

In the past month we have seen the best and worst of footy supporters – the unedifying booing of Adam Goodes and the unquestioned compassion over Phil Walsh. So we have come to a fork in the road. Let's choose the high one.

The figure for the permanent scholarship is a modest $500,000 – or less than half the annual salary of some of the game's elite players.

The Churchill Memorial Trust chief executive,  Paul Tys, says, "We would love to be part of this. The trust would welcome the opportunity to be partners in this project."

A scholarship that would last forever – that could be Phillip Walsh's legacy.