Travelin’ Through

HWY 169 Revisited

Young Robert Zimmerman drove or rode Greyhound Bus through our hometown, unnoticed, countless times, past the K-Bob, the Armory where we strummed on cheap guitars and old City Hall on his way to the world of music, fine art and sculpture. He was a complete unknown to us or anyone outside of Hibbing or Dinkytown. This scrawny, scrappy kid was born with the heart a champion and a mind hotwired to popular culture. The study of Bob Dylan is a virtual university of the American Dream. This could not and would not have happened anywhere else at any time in modern history. When I was swept briefly into Dylan’s orbit in 1974 I wasn’t convinced it would last. He would pass out of favor in a decade at most, an intriguing footnote who would flame out like Jimi and Janis before him.

Time has proven me wrong.

It was touch and go for Dylan from time to time, a rollercoaster ride across the stratosphere on a ‘Neverending Tour’. Along the way something happened. His private hobbies became public curiosities; his expressions artifacts. He became a man for all seasons, a celebrated jack of all trades. Awards and honors piled up until he had them all: Nobel, Pulitzer, Oscar, Grammys and more. It was then that I began to comprehend the profound impact Robert Zimmerman had on me and the millions like me whose dreams were encouraged by our admiration for Dylan’s work and life, for they are one and the same.

“If I’ve ever had anything to tell anybody, it’s that: You can do the impossible. Anything is possible. And that’s it. No more…

A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do”. - Bob Dylan

Thank you, Bob

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