That’s me, on January 15, 1995, with one of my all time heroes, John Doman. It’s a pre-smart phone selfie, taken by John.

He’s a photographer at the Pioneer Press. At least for now. He said on Facebook yesterday that he’s at long last taking a buyout, and will be leaving the business he’s been in since 1972.

There’s a funny thing about being a reporter that they don’t tell you when you get the job: you learn almost nothing from your peers or your boss. They do most of their work out of the office, or on the phone where you can’t hear them because you’re on YOUR phone. Or they’re toiling away in their cube, typing to themselves, and what semblance that bears to the final product is only for them and their boss to know. Reporting is ironically a very solitary pursuit much of the time. You learn a lot more from your competitors and the rest of the news staff, because they’re working on the same thing simultaneously and get to compare results in near-real time.

Me, I learned a good part of what I know about journalism from John Doman. Inevitably, whatever assignment I went to, I would find John strolling up to the scene, a beat-up set of cameras swinging from his neck — if we didn’t drive somewhere together in his faded red Pontiac, with a beaded trinket swinging from the mirror. “Masha’Allah,” it said. “Whatever it is,” Doman used to tell me, pointing a fat, stubby finger at the beads, “God has truly willed it.”

That was Doman’s principal lesson to me: the Universe is an abiding mystery, consider yourself lucky to wring any meaning out of it at all. If not, tomorrow’s another day.

Here are some other things John Doman taught me in the 16 years we worked together:

• Never rush. You’ll either start making mistakes, or not see what you were sent to look for. Keep calm. Keep your finger on the shutter release.
• The best question to ask is always the first one. Never be afraid to walk up, extend a hand and start asking anybody you see whatever comes to mind. When in doubt, just start.
• Wherever you are, find something good to eat. You get to go out and see the world, you might as well sample its fare while you’re at it.

We went everywhere together from the far side of the Perfume River in Bangkok to the wilds of northwestern Wisconsin to the flooded streets of Grand Forks.

I can’t tell you how much I’ll miss John, even working at Minnesota Public Radio. But I can tell you this: you’ll miss him too, even if you don’t know it.