Michael Gray

Folk music is about the lyrics, the message, and in this cacophony, he can barely hear a word.

From his spot near the edge of the stage, Seeger sees his response reflected in the crowd.

Raised eyebrows, confusion, even anger.

He marches over to the soundboard in a backstage marquee.

A couple of engineers, headphones on, are hunched over the deck, fine-tuning with the various knobs and sliders.

Seeger, though, demands that the sound is adjusted to at least attempt to make this unconventional set fit in at this celebration of traditional music.

When he's refused by a couple of Dylan's supporters, including his manager, Seeger threatens to find an axe to do the job himself.

And he's not the only one who's furious.

The majority of the crowd is now booing at some volume, their dissatisfaction audible even over the loud music.

As Seger storms around backstage looking for something to make good on his threat, Dylan's set is over almost as soon as it began.

The star leaves the stage after just three songs.

Amid a smattering of applause, punctuated with more booing, Peter Yarrow, another festival organizer, makes his way on stage and begs Dylan to come back on.

Eventually, though he's visibly shaken, the singer relents.

Seeing that he's now holding an acoustic guitar, the crowd cheers.

And when Dylan asks if anyone has a harmonica, a few clatter on stage.

Thank you very much, he says, bringing a round of laughter.

At least temporarily, Dylan is friends with his audience again.

Fitting a harmonica into his rack, he begins to play Mr. Tambourine Man.

Pete Seeger exhales.

But what he and the rest of the audience don't know is that they have witnessed a key moment in musical history.