The Absolutely 100% True Story of Linda French

Wondering just how the heck The Sidetrack became famous? It wasn't just the burgers. 

For decades, scholars and barflies alike have pondered the origins of Linda French.

I stumbled upon this living legend the first time I stopped in Depot Town--kicking back at the bar while drinking a pint of Frog Island, I watched in amazement as she chewed out her staff. Strangly, they almost seemed to enjoy it.

I remember thinking, here was a woman I had to meet. And one lazy Saturday afternoon, many years after having made her acquaintance, she told me the story of her life. While sitting alongside the railroad tracks, munching sweet potato fries under a large Saint Pauli Girl umbrella, she recounted the following tale...

Born in 1864 to Charleston socialite Harriet Middleton, famed for her refusal to skip town as it burned to ash in the incendiary wake left by Northern soldiers, Linda spent her formative years scavenging for food among the sacked ruins of the city. After coming to the conclusion one spring day that the chicken did, in fact, come before the egg, she came home to discover her mother dead, clutching a letter from General Sherman himself which detailed, among other things, that he was Linda's father. Armed with nothing more than the knowledge that she was the love-child borne of unspeakable travesty, Linda hopped the first train going North intending to claim her birth-rite and avenge her mother's abandonment.

...Once aboard, she made the acquaintance of several other vagabond young women, a few of whom were railroad prostitutes... 

Once aboard, she made the acquaintance of several other vagabond young women, a few of whom were railroad prostitutes. Ever the shrewd businesswoman, Linda realized the lucrative potential inherent in organizing such activities and swiftly became the leader of a highly successful railroad brothel. By 1886 she'd adopted the alias "Sidetrack Suzie" and could count scores of famous industrialists as regular clients 
One summer afternoon on a routine shopping trip from Hartford to cosmopolitan Dover, Delaware, Linda met mustard mogul Pierre French; the couple married during a lovely Mormon service on June 12, 1891 in Camden, NJ. But after enjoying 25 years of connubial bliss, Linda returned from her weekly pedicure one day to find her beloved French in the arms of none other than the notoriously promiscuous Helen Hellman--daughter and heir to the mayonnaise dynasty.
Totally appalled, shocked, and overcome with grief and an acute case of phlebitis, Linda fled West, tragically falling into the clutches of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. Using Linda's delicate emotional state to her full advantage, Evanston, IL resident Frances Willard, oft dubbed "the Mother of Prohibition", was able to brainwash our protagonist, prompting her to embark upon a ten-year stint as an anti-alcohol lobbyist and avid censor of published materials.
Perusing a work by Benjamin Franklin one morning, Linda came upon his famous saying, "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." Inspired and awakened to the one great truth which governs man, she ran screaming from Evanston like a bat out of Hell and straight into the home of Julius A. Neiuland, where at first she worked as a maid in his laboratory.
Neiuland had recently begun research in an attempt to synthesize rubber and quickly discovered Linda's aptitude for complex mathematical equations pertaining to his quest; thus, he secretly employed her for 13 years as his assistant at State College in Punxatawney, Pa. Thanks to her technological ingenuity, we now have neoprene. But claiming her formulas as his own, Julius obtained a patent in 1939, became rich and famous, and cruelly exiled Linda to a hovel in Key West in order to prevent her from publicly exposing his fraudulence. To make ends meet, she put her invention to use and became the first female SCUBA instructor, first teaching WW2 submarine operators how to dive properly, and later introducing tourists to the wonders of the deep.

Rising concerns for underwater wildlife brought Linda to Washington, D.C. in 1959 to lobby increased environmental protection for the planet's precious coral reefs. It was here that she met Arizona Senator and presidential hopeful Barry Goldwater. The two maintained a clandestine love affair for nearly four years, but, fearing scandal would destroy his bid for presidency during the 1964 election, Goldwater suggested they cool off. Devastated, Linda moved to Memphis, vowing that her heart would never be broken again.

...within days of Linda's departure, sources recall that increasing sexual frustration impeded Goldwater's rationality...

It was Goldwater, however, that would never recover from the loss of his passionate lover. Although historians frequently suggest that nuclear arms issues cost Goldwater the presidency, friends close to Goldwater tell a different story. Within days of Linda's departure, sources recall that increasing sexual frustration impeded Goldwater's rationality. Lacking clarity, his political focus eroded, swinging the campaign momentum in Lyndon Johnson's favor.
As Goldwater's political future plummeted, Linda rebuilt her life in Memphis. Working for a small record label, she began to write disco tunes. At a local Baptist church, she met future disco starlet Anita Ward. After several abysmal flops, Linda and Anita finally broke through with the hit single "Ring My Bell." 
Despite her prominent role in the collaborate effort to create the music, Frederick Knight, Sam Dees, and Tommy Tate were credited as the producers of the LP. Frustrated once more after failing to gain recognition for her achievements, Linda took her share of the record's proceeds and headed for New York, planning to invest the money on Wall Street. Ward & Co. never recovered from the loss of their songwriter, joining the annals of one hit wonders after producing the dud "Don't Drop My Love.".

While in New York, Linda did her part to uphold 1980s conspicuous consumption. Investing her Memphis royalties wisely in Florida real estate, she quickly amassed considerable wealth selling retirement property to elderly Yankees. Hoping to increase her fortune, she put the entire sum into the stock market on Friday, October 16th, 1987. 
The following Black Monday she emerged penniless, her only possession the deed to a small brewpub business that she had foreclosed on the previous year. Down on her luck once more, Linda left the Big Apple and traveled to Ypsilanti, Michigan, hoping to earn a buck by serving the blue collar locals burgers and beer.
Much to everyone's surprise, the Sidetrack Bar & Grill, named after Linda's earlier stint in railroad debauchery, flourished in the 1990s. The popular pub drew patrons from miles away, who traveled great distances to the bar hoping to fight arteriosclerosis by consuming her oatmeal-fortified burgers and antioxidant beer.

Friends of Linda French are nervous about the pub's future, however-It seems that each decade triggers a major change in the life of our protagonist. The 1990s are now behind us…who knows what Linda French will do next?

Editor's Note: If you really believed this story, you either have been drinking too much at the Sidetrack or need to stop by so we can screw your head back on straight.
All events are fictitious; character semblances to real historical personages are intentional, but not intentionally slanderous. Our apologies to the friends, descendants and historical societies which commemorate said personages-- email us with complaints and maybe we'll send you coupons for free beer. I said maybe.
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