Ebenezer Stark’s and Lovisa Dibble’s wedding day on October 24, 1823, began with Eben in his parent’s cabin dressing in a fine wool suit. He is joined by his male attendants not dressed as smartly but all had darkened their heavy boots with lampblack. Lovisa was at her family’s home being helped by her mother, Phoebe. Phoebe had recently remarried. Her first husband, Lovisa’s father, Elisha Dibble, died during the war of 1812. Phoebe had saved Elisha’s good wool suit, although realizing few men would ever match Elisha’s six-foot dimensions. Little did she know that her youngest daughter, Lovisa, would be wedding a man of equal statue. She was pleased to have Eben wear Elisha’s suit.

Lovisa and her mother had worked for weeks making her wedding dress. It was floor-length, white linen, gathered at the back to accentuate its empire waist. Its square neckline was attached at the shoulders to long gathered sleeves. Crowning their creation was a delicate lace veil Lovisa had had made from the flax she had saved and worked into a gossamer silkiness.

When the bridesmaids first saw Lovisa in her wedding dress, their mouths fell open. No one had seen such a beautiful gown since leaving the east years before. Lovisia’s mother, not often overcome by emotion, struggled to find her voice. “Lovisa, … you look … well … you are absolutely lovely!

The Stark’s regular pastor, Episcopal Bishop Philander Chase, was back east visiting, so Cleveland mayor Job Doan, a good friend of the Starks and Dibbles, officiated. Lovisa’s brother Samuel, once an aspiring clergyman, advised Mayor Doan on the proper terminology and wedding ritual. The two of them rehearsed for hours walking along the waterfront.

When Charlette Ackley began to play the Bach toccata on her treasured harpsichord, all eyes turned to the rear of the room to watch Louisa come down the center aisle. A whispered exclamation of admiration swept over those assembled when they saw the radiant bride.

Abram Hickox, Lovisa’s stepfather was on her right arm, but her mother had said, “Louisa, your father, Elishia, would be so proud of you today. Give him your left arm because I’m sure he is with you today.”

Eben’s knees started to buckle when he saw this vision of loveliness, his wife to be, start down the aisle. Job Doan was also suffering a perspiring brow trying to remember the vows he had rehearsed. However, he did fine, completing the pronouncements word for word, but then, perhaps so relieved at getting through the ceremony, added an adlib, “I now pronounce you man and wife, and may God have mercy on your souls.” There was a twitter of giggles at his unexpected improvisation, but then when Eben took Lovisa into his arms and kissed her lovingly, the room exploded in applause.

Wedding receptions in the village were raucous, spirited affairs and the celebration with its food and spirits would go on for hours. Lewis toasted the bride and groom concluding with, “How pleased I am to have my two favorite people joined in marriage. I wish them a long and happy life together … and may God have mercy on their souls.”

After their first dance together as man and wife, Eben and Lovisa climbed into a two wheeled, horse drawn cabriolet Eben had borrowed from a friend and rode off into Cleveland folklore as the handsomest couple to wed in the grandest wedding seen in the settlement up to that time.