I mean, I was basically the youngest person there. And that’s okay! Because, for me, hearing Suze Rotolo describing the glory days of the village folk scene was a matter of child-like indulgence. Tell me the story of what it was like! Oh, tell it again. But for the majority of people in the audience - silvery haired dames of the east village in eyeglasses more costly than my apartment and grizzle-locked men who should know better than to leave their top buttons undone by now- it was a matter of remembering.

Suze has written a book. A Freewheelin’ Time is, as she put it, “the story of [her] life as it intertwined with Dylan’s” during the sixties in Greenwich Village. Until now, her story has been subject to myriad imaginings of the life she lived with Dylan in their W. 4th street apartment. The long-awaited biography is now out in hardback.

The crowd at the reading was sizable and congregated in folding chairs on the far end of Housingworks Used Books Café. Housingworks, by the by, is a stand up organization that accepts donated books and then sells them to benefit causes such as HIV/Aids and homelessness. The reading was free but people happily gave the suggested ten dollar donation.

Suze wore a long black skirt and purple blouse. She has sandy colored hair and her ears peaked out between the strands.  She took a seat and gave the audience a smile that seemed almost shy. After the Scorcese documentary, No Direction Home, came out in 2005, Suze was asked to write the book, but wasn’t immediately sure whether she should. It was her son, ultimately, who convinced her. He told her that with so many versions of the story out there, maybe it would be nice to set the real story down.

“So here’s the real one,” Suze said, and began the reading.

She waxed euphoric about John Lee Hooker. She talked about a moment of epiphany the first time she heard one of his recordings. She was literally frozen in her tracks by the music. Suze then describes seeing him years later (“I didn’t know he was still alive, much less playing the New York clubs,”) and trying to explain to the rest of the folkies the greatness they were witnessing.

As she read from this section, Suze commented on Hooker’s onstage demeanor. I looked around the room and saw a couple of people nodding. These people were agreeing! Because they too had once been to see John Lee Hooker!

Damn them.

Not to beat the old drum too much, but sometimes I despair about our generation’s music. Am I seriously going to be telling my future children about that time I went to the ManMan concert and it was really sweet? Because I don’t think that’s going to hold up in the same way. When I observed these aging Villagers getting nostalgic I felt jealous.

Suze read another passage about her and Therri Thal distracting avid fans after the Newport Folk Festival. The two women ran in one direction so that Dylan and Dave Van Ronk could sneak into the limo, sans fans. Suze paused halfway through this section to take a sip of water. Very quietly and with an air of amusement she said, “There should be wine here.” The crowd laughed in agreement.

Suze is neither show off nor a performer, but she read with excellent expression. Also, not for nothing, her writing is pretty good. The excerpts she read were evocative and earnest. They gave enough historical detail to ground the reader, but not so many as to feel pedantic. The overall effect was that of a charismatic tour guide leading you through a busy street.

Suze finished the reading by describing the fear she felt once she and Terri finally got into that limo. There were hundreds of people banging on windows and screaming and she felt trapped inside. The way she tells it, Dylan gave the fans a brisk salute before sinking into his seat. This, she said, may have been the moment in which, “Bobby became Dylan.”