Sixty years ago, Bob Dylan and his girlfriend Suze Rotolo stepped outside their West Village apartment, holding each other against the biting February cold. Standing in the snowy street beside a blue Volkswagen bus, they posed for a series of photographs. “Bob stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned into me,” Rotolo recalled in her excellent 2008 memoir, A Freewheelin’ Time: A Memoir of Greenwich Village in the Sixties. “In some of the outtakes it is obvious that by then we were freezing; certainly Bob was, in that thin jacket. But image was all.”
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