MARSHFIELD - The recent wedding of Adena Rosenthal, 39, and Benjamin Zack, 37, was supposed to be a train wreck. Actually it was supposed to be a car wreck.
The couple had their first date at the Marshfield Fair’s demolition derby seven years ago and have celebrated every anniversary there since. It made perfect sense to Rosenthal and Zack to get married near the mud and colliding metal last weekend.
Rosenthal, who has a PhD in psychology, and Zack, who is a computer programmer, are not really demolition derby people. They’re just quirky. They chose the derby as their first date on a lark, just to see what it was like. But it turned out to be the place where love bloomed.
The couple had a big plan for its Saturday wedding. Before the nighttime Figure 8 Racing Finals, where cars travel an infinite route (symbolic, right?), they would stand on top of derby vehicles and say their vows in front of the Marshfield Fair crowd. They would wear formal attire and sneakers. After they were pronounced husband and wife, Zack would try racing for the first time.
“It’s going to be short and sweet,’’ Rosenthal said, days before the affair. “We want our guests to go on rides . . . eat concession food.’’
What Rosenthal and Zack didn’t count on was a storm named Danny. Saturday’s weather was so bad that the fair and the Figure 8 race were canceled by the afternoon. Not only that, the tent that the couple had reserved in case of bad weather was flooded. All seemed to be lost.
But like good demolition derby fans, Rosenthal and Zack refused to give up. Wedding planner Christy Kahana called the Marshfield Fair and worked with staffers to come up with an alternative plan. The only idea was for the bride and groom to get married in a barn, the place where the fair shows off award-winning vegetables.
So that’s what they did. Guests, some of whom wore sweatshirts and mullet wigs, sat on folding chairs near baskets of blue-ribbon zucchini. Rosenthal, who wore a gown and sneakers, and Zack, who wore a tux top, shorts, and shoes that matched his wife-to-be’s, stood on top of a broken-down, spray-painted demolition derby car and spoke their vows.
Zack recalled their first date. “You smiled and laughed as you wiped mud from your cheek. . . . For seven years we have been coming back here to mark our time together, but today I have the special honor of taking your hand in marriage. I love you.’’
Rosenthal had the crowd in tears with her declarations of adoration. “I love that you are so particular about how to make French toast and pancakes. . . . I love your appreciation of nature, the way you absorb it through all your senses, letting it engulf you and comfort you. . . . I love that you see every meal as an opportunity to test your tolerance for capsaicin.’’
After the kiss, Rosenthal threw her bouquet to the bridesmaids, who wore mismatching prom dresses. They passed the flowers to one another, trying to avoid them. One bridesmaid uttered, “Ugh. I don’t want to get married.’’ The flowers fell to the floor. People giggled.
Guests such as Jon and Joann Prescott-Roy lined up at the one fair concession stand that agreed to stay open during the wedding despite the weather. The Prescott-Roys seemed unfazed by the circumstances of the wedding. They wore jeans and smiles.
“The fact that they’re getting married at a demolition derby is not surprising,’’ Jon said, matter-of-factly. “The fact that they’re getting married at a closed demolition derby is also not surprising.’’
As the night went on, there was cake and lots of dancing to Wham! and Michael Jackson. The temperature dropped significantly, but few seemed to mind. Outside of the barn, as the night sky took over, the vacant cotton candy booths and rides began to look like the set of a horror movie.
But in the barn, the newly married couple beamed.
“I had a perfect wedding,’’ Rosenthal said afterward in a dreamy voice.
For the record, Zack did enter the Figure 8 race, which was rescheduled for Sunday. He did a good job destroying his car and won the award for “hardest hit.’’ Perfect indeed.
Meredith Goldstein can be reached at mgoldstein@globe.com. You can read her daily Love Letters dispatch and chat with her every Wednesday at 1 p.m. at www.boston.com/loveletters. 
