James Dean's Bit Part in the Fifties Cast a Long Shadow, But What If....?

From the book James Dean: 50 Years Ago

Because Buddy Holly performed one of his last concerts here in Duluth, leaving lasting impression on the young Robert Zimmerman who was there that night, I've numerous times been asked, "Would Buddy Holly have stayed famous and influential had he lived?"

It's one of the age old questions people ask when famous people die young. "What if..." What if Marilyn Monroe had lived? What if JFK had lived? And today's theme: What if James Dean had lived?

* * * 

Earlier this year I picked out David Halberstam's The Fifties for my summer read because I was born in the early Fifties and believed it would help me understand myself. Though I've always believed it was the Sixties that shaped my life trajectory, one cannot escape recognizing how the outlines of our Sixties lives emerged from what came before. 

Interestingly, the ones who were most shaped by the Fifties were the kids born in the early Forties, like Bob Dylan. There's no question James Dean had been an influence on Dylan. Coming of age in Hibbing, Bobby Zimmerman's uncles owned the theaters there and much has been made of Bobby Z having spent hours at the Lybba and other theaters in town. We not only see references to films in his songs but also see his interest in the medium of film itself. (eg. Renaldo & Clara, Masked and Anonymous, Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid.)

As for James Dean himself, Bob Dylan once visited James Dean's hometown after a concert in Indianapolis, much like Dylan fans make a trek to Duluth and Hibbing to see the homes and points of interest where young Dylan grew up.

So we come to the question that is now on the table. What kind of career would James Dean have had had he lived? Here's some of what Halberstam wrote. In a chapter that focuses on three influential "bad boys" of the Fifties, he begins with Brando and Elvis.

Marlon Brando and Elvis Presley were only the first of the new rebels from the world of entertainment and art. Soon to come were many others. If there was a common thread, it was that they all projected the image of being misunderstood, more often than not by their parents' generation, if not their own parents themselves. There was little overt political content in their rebellion; their public personae and the characters they played were not fighting against the sinister injustices of the McCarthy era or racial injustice. Only Brando came close to politics when he confronted the mob in On the Waterfront.

According to Halberstam, the third bad boy James Dean was not the caliber of actor that Brando was. 

Dean's life and his art were inseparable. Unlike Brando, who had considerable professional training and considerable range, Dean basically played himself, but brilliantly. Sullen and sulky, he was still worthy of redemption if only the properly tender girlfriend could be found to mother him. Either he got a part right instinctively, (Elia) Kazan believed, or he didn't get it at all. At a certain point the only way to get him to improve his performance was to get him liquored up.

A little further Halberstam makes this observation about Dean's career.

His career was short. There were only three films before he met his death in a car accident. The end came at the height of his fame and in the very same year of his stunning debut in East of Eden. That early death ensured him a place in the pantheon of artists who lived fast and died young. His poster would grace the bedroom walls of future generations of young would-be rebels. Dick Schickel noted the advantages of dying young (Dean) and the disadvantages of not (Brando): "There is much to be said for dying young in circumstances melodramatically appropriate to your public image. There is very little to be said for living long and burying that image in silence. They're like fighters on their way up. It's a life or death struggle for them and they give their utmost to the role. This quality disappears later," he once said. "They become civilized and normal."

In another place Halberstam details the challenge Kazan had to deal with and the games the two men--Kazan and Dean--played before the latter would win his opportunity.

A friend told Kazan about Dean, whom he remembered from the Actors Studio as sullen and not very productive. At their first meeting Kazan, wanting to provoke Dean, deliberately kept him waiting; when he finally arrived, Kazan found Dean slouched down in his seat--rude, disrespectful, and shabbily dressed. The two of them were engaging in a certain kind of theatrical gamesmanship, Kazan decided. They did not talk much. Conversation was not James Dean's strong suit, particularly with someone so powerful in the theater and whose good opinion he so desperately wanted. Dean offered Kazan a ride on his motorbike, and off they went. "He was showing off," Kazan later wrote, "a country boy not impressed with big city traffic."

Fortunately for Dean, his act worked. To Kazan, who bore his own resentments against his father, Dean was Cal Trask. "There was no point in trying to cast it better or nicer. Jimmy was it. He had a grudge against all fathers. He was vengeful; he had a sense of alone-ness and of being persecuted. And he was uncommonly suspicious."

The impression one gets is that James Dean was not really a character actor, he was simply himself. If this were the case, the future he never had would require some maturing and more honing of his craft. He certainly made a splash, but how much of this was due to Kazan's skills handling the churlish Dean? 

Photo credits: All the images on this page were from this book which I picked up at a library sale early this summer. 

Bob Dylan's Visit to the James Dean Gallery in Indiana

Larry Kegan. Photo: courtesy 
Marc Percansky

This is an excerpt from a 2015 blog post.

In late 2014 a friend send me a portion of the late Larry Kegan's unpublished 1999 memoir Some Get the Chair. For those well-acquainted with Bob Dylan's life story, Larry Kegan was a close friend from his teen years whom he met at a summer camp in Wisconsin. Tragically, as a result of a neck injury Kegan was wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. The title of his unpublished book shows his wit and humor about this situation: Some Get The Chair.

Over the course of many years Bob invited Larry to go on tours with him. (See: Remembering Larry Kegan.) In the memoir he writes about many events that show the importance of place. One story is about events that occurred after a Friday night concert at the Indianapolis State Fairgrounds on a hot summer night in mid-July 1988. The next stop was to be Detroit, but Dylan gave instructions for the tour bus to take a middle of the night detour through the small rural town of Fairmount, Indiana. Kegan wrote:

"No Money Down." Larry Kegan, vocals. Bob Dylan, sax.
Indianapolis, 1988. Photo courtesy Marc Percansky.

Bob had already gotten out of his bus and was heading down the main drag. Dave, the bus driver, came over to the van and I asked him what we were doing here. "This is James Dean's town, where he grew up and where he's buried." "Where's Bob going," I asked? "He's going to check out the High School where he attended," he said. We hung out for a while around my van and Bob's bus.

Next thing you know a couple girls come over -- it's 1:30 in the morning -- and they learn that there's a James Dean Museum in town. (Actual name: The James Dean Gallery.) One thing led to another so that two Fairmount police escorted Bob to the museum which was opened for him and his friends. The place was handicapped accessible so Larry also had the privilege of getting the tour.

James Dean.

The place was a real trip into the Fifties. James Dean stuff everywhere. Posters from all three of his movies, EAST OF EDEN, REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE, and GIANT. Clothes he wore in the movie and around town, They even had his basketball trunks he actually used in high school.

I'm sharing this to set up a longer post I'm working on about James Dean and the ever-recurring "What if...?" question. What if he hadn't died young? What if Jimi Hendrix had continued his career? What would have become of Jim Morrison? Marilyn Monroe? Janis Joplin? What is John Lennon hadn't been shot.

Sometime soon I will attempt to suggest an answer regarding James Dean. 

Throwback Thursday: Bob Dylan's Visit to the James Dean Museum

This day in history, 1955: James Dean, a symbol of the confused, restless, and disillusioned youth of the 1950s, died in an automobile crash as he drove to a car rally in Salinas, California. Interestingly, the Salinas Valley was the backdrop for many stories by Nobel Laureate John Steinbeck and James Dean a central character in Steinbeck's East of Eden.

* * * 

It's well-known that Bob Dylan grew up as a fan of motion pictures. His writings make numerous references to films. While on tour in July 1988, Dylan directed the bus to make a detour after a show in Indianapolis. He'd evidently been aware that the James Dean Museum was in the vicinity of where they were traveling. What follows is an excerpt from a 2015 blog post in which I included an account of that event.

* * * 

This week I re-read portions of an unpublished 1999 manuscript by Larry Kegan which at one time was online but was has since been withdrawn. Larry Kegan and Bobby Zimmerman (Dylan) became close friends after meeting at Herzl Camp in their early teens. As a result of a neck injury Kegan was wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. The title of his unpublished book shows his wit and humor about this situation: Some Get The Chair.

Over the course of many years Bob invited Larry to go on tours with him. (See: Remembering Larry Kegan.) In the book he writes about events that show the importance of place. This story is about events that took place after a Friday evening concert at the Indianapolis State Fairgrounds on a hot summer night in mid-July 1988. The next stop was to be Detroit, but Dylan gave instructions for the tour bus to take a detour through the small rural town of Fairmount, Indiana. Kegan writes:

Larry Kegan in Belize

Bob had already gotten out of his bus and was heading down the main drag. Dave, the bus driver, came over to the van and I asked him what we were doing here. "This is James Dean's town, where he grew up and where he's buried." "Where's Bob going," I asked? "He's going to check out the High School where he attended," he said. We hung out for a while around my van and Bob's bus.

Next thing you know a couple girls come over -- it's 1:30 in the morning -- and the entourage learns that there's a James Dean Museum in town. (Actual name: The James Dean Gallery.) One thing led to another so that two Fairmount police escorted Bob to the museum which was opened for him and his friends. The place was handicapped accessible so Larry also had the privilege of getting the tour.

The place was a real trip into the Fifties. James Dean stuff everywhere. Posters from all three of his movies, EAST OF EDEN, REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE, and GIANT. Clothes he wore in the movies and around town, They even had the basketball trunks he actually used in high school.

There's something to be said about the importance of place.

* * * *
About fifteen years ago or so I (not Larry talking here) went to a family reunion at Salt Fork, a resort in Southeast Ohio that my parents used to bring us when we were growing up. Our families stayed at lakeside cabins for a week, sharing and making many fond memories. One day I drove into town to pick up some groceries from nearby Cambridge. To my surprise there was a Hopalong Cassidy Museum there. Hopalong Cassidy was a cowboy film and TV star back in the early days of television. William Boyd, the actor who played this fictional good guy cowboy with the black hat, was from Cambridge.

Dylan went out of his way to visit the places where his heroes were from. It's on record that he's been to Liverpool. He has mentioned visiting the childhood home of Neil Young. I don't doubt he's paid a visit to Lubbock, Texas where the Buddy Holly Museum resides.

If a minor character like William Boyd or men with relatively short careers like Buddy Holly and James Dean have places dedicated to their honor in their home towns, it just seems like there should be something more in Duluth than three manhole covers and a section of street designated "Bob Dylan Way." As for getting your photo taken, you can stand in front of a small wall of memorabilia down the hall from the Brewhouse at Fitgers, or in front of the Buddy Holly & the Crickets poster in the entryway of the Armory Annex down on London Road.

It doesn't have to be much, but fortunately there is a circle of friends and fans making an effort to offer more than what we've got. Zimmy's was such a place for Hibbing, and though we mourn the loss, a group called The Hibbing Project will be unveiling a monument there this month. More on that will be coming soon.

* * * *
Photo of Larry Kegan in Belize was sent to me by a friend; photo by David Elwood.

Bob Dylan's Visit to the James Dean Museum and the Importance of Place

When Zimmy's closed its doors earlier this year a lot of hearts were broken. Not only has the Dylan-themed Hibbing restaurant been a destination for Dylan fans around the world, it has also been a centerpiece of Hibbing's annual Dylan Days celebration.

Though Linda and Bob Hocking were heartbroken by this turn of events, they weren't the only ones. Hibbing's Dylan Days itself was in jeopardy. The horses puling the wagon were tired.

This past week the news became official, news that many were already aware of. Duluth's Dylan Fest Committee had been discussing options for months should things unfold in this manner. Christa Lawler's DNT article, Organizers of Hibbing's Dylan Days put event on hiatus, provides plenty details, beginning with Aaron Brown's announcement on his Minnesota Brown Blog last week, which includes the official announcement. The Dylan Days committee has disbanded.

In addition to the closing of Zimmy's you'll also read that Howard Street Booksellers is closing its doors. Joe and Mary Keyes are retiring. That's a real bummer, too.

* * * *

For several years it had been an ambition of mine to have one of my Dylan paintings on display at Zimmy's. I intended to enter their Dylan art contest, but somehow never got around to it or ran afoul of a rules change regarding deadlines. I

For the past five years I have had a chance to "sit at the table" and watch the manner in which the annual Dylan celebrations have been conducted here in the Northland. There were actually three entities, each one showing respect for the others. The Duluth committee continually made it clear that the Hibbing events were sacred and that whatever we did down here should not interfere with the original Dylan Days. Their mission became to lay to whet the appetite for those who had come long distances and offer more activities while here in the Northland, turning a weekend celebration into a week long celebration.

For those unaware, young Robert Zimmerman was born at St. Mary's Hospital here on Duluth's Central Hillside, his first house being a few blocks west where he lived till he was six and his father Abe took the family to Hibbing.

The third entity who has also been active in this annual reunion is the Armory Arts and Music Center (AAMC). When I first became aware of the Duluth Dylan Fest activities, I did not know that these were separate entities with separate aims. Only as I became more involved did I understand this. The primary objective of the AAMC is to see the restoration of this historic Duluth armory on London Road. It's history is much larger than Dylan, but the "place" is a central part of the Duluth-Dylan legacy, for it was here at the Armory that Bob Zimmerman drove down to see Buddy Holly two days before the airplane crash in an Iowa cornfield that took his life along with Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper.

It's the AAMC that has been responsible for bringing Scarlet Rivera, Gene Lafond and others for concerts to kick off the week's events each May. Last year's Salute to the Music of Bob Dylan, produced by "Magic Marc" Percansky, at Sacred Heart was such a stellar event that I can't imagine the AAMC being able to top it.

* * * *

This week I re-read portions of an unpublished 1999 manuscript by Larry Kegan which at one time was online but was has since been withdrawn. Larry Kegan was Dylan's close friend when they were young. As a result of a neck injury Kegan was wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. The title of his unpublished book shows his wit and humor about this situation: Some Get The Chair.

Over the course of many years Bob invited Larry to go on tours with him. (See: Remembering Larry Kegan.) In the book he writes about events that show the importance of place. The story is about events that took place after a Friday night concert at the Indianapolis State Fairgrounds on a hot summer night in mid-July 1988. The next stop was to be Detroit, but Dylan gave instructions for the tour bus to take a detour through the small rural town of Fairmount, Indiana. Kegan writes:

Bob had already gotten out of his bus and was heading down the main drag. Dave, the bus driver, came over to the van and I asked him what we were doing here. "This is James Dean's town, where he grew up and where he's buried." "Where's Bob going," I asked? "He's going to check out the High School where he attended," he said. We hung out for a while around my van and Bob's bus.

Next thing you know a couple girls come over -- it's 1:30 in the morning -- and they learn that there's a James Dean Museum in town. (Actual name: The James Dean Gallery.) One thing led to another so that two Fairmount police escorted Bob to the museum which was opened for him and his friends. The place was handicapped accessible so Larry also had the privilege of getting the tour.

The place was a real trip into the Fifties. James Dean stuff everywhere. Posters from all three of his movies, EAST OF EDEN, REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE, and GIANT. Clothes he wore in the movie and around town, They even had his basketball trunks he actually used in high school.

There's something to be said about the importance of place.

* * * *
About fifteen years ago or so we went to a family reunion of sorts at Salt Fork, a resort in Southeast Ohio that my parents used to bring us when we were growing. Our families stayed at lakeside cabins for a week, sharing and making many fond memories. One day I drove into town to pick up some things from nearby Cambridge. To my surprise there was a Hopalong Cassidy Museum there. Hopalong Cassidy was a cowboy film and TV star back in the early days of television. William Boyd, the actor who played this fictional good guy cowboy with the black hat, was from Cambridge.

Dylan went out of his way to visit the places where his heroes were from. It's on record that he's been to Liverpool. I don't doubt he's paid a visit to Lubbock, Texas where the Buddy Holly Museum resides.

If a minor character like William Boyd or men with relatively short careers like Buddy Holly and James Dean have places dedicated to their honor in their home towns, it just seems like there should be something more in Duluth than three manhole covers and a section of street designated "Bob Dylan Way." As for getting your photo taken, you can stand in front of a small wall of memorabilia down the hall from the Brewhouse at Fitger's, or in front of the Buddy Holly & the Crickets poster in the entryway of the Armory Annex down on London Road.

It doesn't have to be much, but I'd like to see something more than what we've got. Zimmy's was such a place for Hibbing, and we mourn the loss.

* * * *
Photos: Top right, Zimmy's 2012. 
Dylan painting by Ed Newman; Salute poster from 2014
Photo of Larry Kegan in Belize was sent to me by a friend; photo by David Elwood.