Jacksonborough GA in the 19th century was a rough place known for hard drinking and brawling. The oft repeated saying from George White’s 1849 book Statistics of the State of Georgia was, “The place had formerly a very bad character. It was reported, that in the mornings after drunken frolics and fights, you could see children picking up eyeballs in tea saucers.”Dow’s fire and brimstone sermon at the Methodist Church that night was interrupted by a group that had gathered to harass the evangelist. The service was broken up by the group of “rowdies.” Undaunted, Dow followed the group that harassed him as they went into a whiskey store. He was covered with the stink of rotten eggs, but unbowed. Tradition has it that the fiery preacher snatched up an iron tool and broke open a barrel of whiskey, dumping its contents across the floor. The crowd would have seriously injured or killed Dow if fellow Methodist and Mason Seaborn Goodall had not rescued him, taking Dow home for the night.

The crowd was not appeased and a mob gathered at the Goodall home the following day with a supply of eggs and tomatoes. Dow walked out of town under a barrage of fruit and eggs, stopping at the Beaver Dam Creek Bridge. Dow quite literally shook the dust of Jacksonborough off his feet as the disciples of Jesus were instructed to do in the New Testament. As he did so he cursed all of Jacksonborough save the Goodall home.

Thirty years later, all that was left of the town was the Goodall’s home and the story of the curse. The Goodall home had fallen into disrepair by the mid-1960s when the DAR  raised $40,000 and renovated it. Today the old Goodall home still stands in good repair along an otherwise abandoned dirt road while all other signs of the once bustling town are long gone.

After Peggy died, they say,Lorenzo became acquainted with a young woman named Sally, from the Colchester area. One night he took her for a buggy ride and tried to get her to accept his marriage proposal. He had already made arrangements with the Rev. John Whittlesey to marry them as soon as the girl said “yes,” no matter what time of day or night his proposal was accepted.

Lorenzo popped the question about 11:00 p.m., as they rode up Bean Hill: “What do you say we get married?” “Oh, Lorenzo, don’t talk such foolishness,” she replied. But he was persistent. “Come on,” he urged, “we’ve waited long enough.” Although Sally finally agreed, she said, “We can’t get married tonight. Let’s wait ’til tomorrow.” But, of course, the shrewd preacher was “hot to trot,” which they did — straight to the Rev. Whittlesey’s home, known as the “Red Cottage,” in Salem.

As the buggy pulled up to the front door of the Red Cottage, Lorenzo called out, “Hey there, parson, wake up. It’s Lorenzo Dow and I’m here to get married.” Soon the minister and his wife, still dressed in nightclothes, appeared at the upstairs bedroom window. Although Sally once again balked at the thought of getting hitched to the odd man at her side, she finally relented, vowing to “be a thorn in his flesh and a sword in his side.” “Get on with it,” shouted Lorenzo. So, as he leaned out the window over the couple below, the Rev. Whittlesey performed the simple service while his wife witnessed it. When it was over, the minister tossed down the marriage certificate, Lorenzo grabbed it before it hit the ground and Mr. and Mrs. Lorenzo Dow trotted off happily down the moonlit road to a new life together. It should be added that Sally Dow never kept her pre-marriage vow, for she was Lorenzo’s constant companion on his wandering journeys, listened without complaint to his long, rambling sermons and proved to be the one true friend he had for the rest of her life.

Quoted from Legendary Connecticut by David E Phillips

Despite his unattractive physical appearance, his eccentric behavior and his wandering ministry which kept him from home for long periods of time, Crazy Dow was married at least twice and made his permanent (if that’s the correct word for it) home, at various times in his life, in Hebron and in Montville. He apparently married his first wife when they were both quite young, but though she died after only a few years of marriage, he seemingly held her in great esteem. For it is said by persons in Hope Valley who should know, that when his first wife died, he had her body wrapped in “cut after cut and fold after fold” of woolen cloth and then buried her without a coffin and standing bolt upright in the grave, so she could the more quickly and surely reach heaven. The epitaph on her gravestone reads: “Peggy Dow. Shared Vissitudes of Lorenzo.” The latter is probably a gross understatement.

Quoted from Legendary Connecticut by David E Phillips

While passing through some dense woods one day, on his way to a scheduled revival meeting, Lorenzo Dow came on two men cutting wood. Mounting a large stump, he announced, “Crazy Dow will preach from this stump six months from today, at two o’clock P. M.” Six months later, as a huge crowd awaited him at the appointed spot, Dow encountered a man in great distress on the way to the scene of his sermon. After inquiring what the matter was, the preacher learned that the unhappy man was a poor woodsman whose axe, his only means of making a living, had been stolen. Dow promised the wretched fellow that if he would attend the services scheduled to start shortly, he would locate the axe for him. Before Lorenzo continued on, he leaned down, picked up a stone and put it in his pocket.

In the midst of his powerful sermon, the fiery minister suddenly interrupted his flow of words, reached in his pocket and pulled out the rock. “Brothers and sisters,” he rasped, “There is a man in this audience who has had his precious axe stolen. There is also one among you who stole it. I am going to rear back and throw this rock, here, right at the thief’s head.” So saying, he pretended to throw the stone with all his might. When only one man in the crowd ducked his head down, Dow went over to the fellow and said, “You have the man’s axe.” And so he had. The thief returned the axe to its owner and never again robbed anyone.