After Peggy died, Lorenzo became acquainted with a young woman named Sally, from the Colchester, CT 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.