Walking Where Dylan Walked

Jamie pulled a jacket off the Salvation Army rack and handed it to me. I put it on. It fit. My dad said, “That looks so sharp.” Jamie said, “It’s only five dollars.” My mom said, “You should just get it.” I brought it to the counter. The lady said that it was half-off because of the yellow stripe on the tag. I paid her $2.50 and we left.

We continued down Howard St., passing closed store after closed store, half of which were closed because it was a Saturday, and half because they had closed their doors for good. Not until the other end of the six-block drag did we find another store to go into. It was Howard Street Books. There, we met Toby Thompson, the first person to write about where Bob Dylan had grown up, which was here, where we were, in Hibbing, MN. We bought and had him sign reissued, soft-cover copies of his book. Then we left, turning back up Howard St. to our car.

We couldn't believe how quiet everything was. There was nothing, and no one. We had expected this to be a big deal. It was Dylan Days, after all. We drove up here expecting to find the streets clogged with tourists and the stores set up on the sidewalks and for their clerks to be out smiling and telling “back when” Robert Zimmerman stories. But this was it, Salvation Army and a small bookstore.

We drove out to our motel on the edge of town, checked-in and unpacked. I took off my over shirt and tried the jacket again. It felt good and went with the Dylan t-shirt I already had on, so I decided I would wear it for the rest of the night. My dad was jealous that he didn’t have anything that was so “rock’n’roll.” I said that I smelled like a thrift store. They assured me that I didn't.

We drove back into town and parked in front of Zimmey’s, a Dylan-themed bar and grill. We had an hour before the concert and the restaurant was full. They offered us a seat on the patio and told us what food would be the fastest. We ordered and while we were waiting, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott came walking by. He was the concert’s headliner and he was hitting up a bar minutes before the opening act went on. And did I mention that he's 77-years-old?

We finished eating and decided to walk to Hibbing High School, where the concert was going to be. I looked back at Howard St. and at the setting sun. I asked Jamie for the camera and she asked if I was going to do my “walking away” shot. I said that I was and we turned the camera to the auto-timer. I got down on my knees and began setting up the shot. My parents asked what I was doing, my mom made a comment about an oncoming car. Camera ready, I pressed the shutter and jumped to my feet. I took a few quick steps, then slowed to a strut.

And there I am, walking where Dylan walked, wearing my two dollar and fifty cent thrift-store coat.