Back in 1980, a night club owner in Huntsville, Alabama mixed up something that would become one of the most popular whiskey cocktails in America. Tony Mason called it the Lynchburg Lemonade, and it was so good that Jack Daniel’s took it, ran a national campaign with it, and never gave him a dime. Mason sued them, won, got awarded one dollar, appealed and won again, went back to court, and lost everything.
You can read the whole wild story about how this drink ended up in a courtroom, but right now let’s talk about how to make it. Because whatever else happened with lawyers and lawsuits and broken promises, Tony Mason created one hell of a drink.
The Lynchburg Lemonade Recipe
Ingredients:
- 1 oz Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey
- 1 oz Triple Sec
- 1 oz Sour Mix (or ¾ oz fresh lemon juice + ¼ oz simple syrup)
- 2 oz Lemon-Lime Soda (Sprite or 7-Up)
- Ice
- Lemon wedge for garnish
Instructions:
- Fill a highball or collins glass with ice.
- Add the Jack Daniel’s, triple sec, and sour mix to the glass.
- Top with lemon-lime soda and give it a gentle stir—just enough to mix everything together without killing all the fizz.
- Garnish with a lemon wedge.
- Drink it and think about how a guy in Huntsville came up with this in 1980 and got almost nothing for it.
That’s it. Five ingredients, one glass, and you’ve got yourself a Lynchburg Lemonade.
Why This Drink Works
Here’s what makes the Lynchburg Lemonade more than just another whiskey and soda situation. You’ve got the Jack Daniel’s giving you that characteristic Tennessee whiskey flavor—smooth, slightly sweet, with that charcoal mellowing they’re known for. The triple sec adds orange notes and a little more sweetness without being cloying. The sour mix (or fresh lemon juice if you’re doing it right) brings the tartness that makes this actually taste like lemonade. And that lemon-lime soda? That’s what makes this thing dangerous—it goes down so easy you forget there’s whiskey in it until you try to stand up.
It’s the kind of drink that works at a backyard barbecue, a pool party, or sitting on your porch on a hot afternoon trying to remember what you were supposed to be doing today. Not too strong, not too sweet, just right there in the middle where a good summer cocktail ought to be.
Fresh Lemon Juice vs. Sour Mix
Now, let’s talk about the sour mix situation. The original recipe calls for sour mix, and that’s what Tony Mason was using back in 1980 at his restaurant in Huntsville. You can buy bottled sour mix at any liquor store or grocery store—Master of Mixes and Mr & Mrs T make decent ones that’ll do the job just fine.
But here’s the thing: fresh lemon juice is going to give you a better drink. It just is. If you’ve got lemons sitting there and you’ve got thirty seconds to squeeze one, use ¾ oz fresh lemon juice and add ¼ oz simple syrup to replace that 1 oz of sour mix. The drink tastes brighter, cleaner, more like actual lemonade instead of the mix that comes from a bottle.
That said, I’m not going to tell you that you’re doing it wrong if you use bottled sour mix. Mason built a business on this drink using sour mix. Sometimes convenient is good enough, especially when you’re making them for a crowd and you’ve got other things to worry about.
The Right Whiskey for a Lynchburg Lemonade
The drink’s called Lynchburg Lemonade, so yeah, you should probably use Jack Daniel’s. That’s the whole point—it’s named after the town where they make the stuff (even though Moore County is dry and you couldn’t buy Jack there for decades, but that’s a whole other story).
Jack Daniel’s Old No. 7 is what you want here. The standard black label bottle. Don’t overthink it. This isn’t the time to break out Gentleman Jack or Single Barrel. Save those for sipping or for a cocktail where the whiskey’s doing more of the heavy lifting. In a Lynchburg Lemonade, you’ve got citrus and soda and orange liqueur all working together, so the subtle differences in premium Jack expressions are going to get lost anyway.
If you absolutely don’t have Jack Daniel’s and you need to make this drink right now, you could use another Tennessee whiskey like George Dickel. But if you do that, you can’t really call it a Lynchburg Lemonade anymore. That’d be like making a Manhattan with Scotch—you can do it, but it’s not the same drink.
Making Multiple Lynchburg Lemonades
If you’re having people over—and this is a great drink for having people over because it’s easy and everybody likes it—you can batch this pretty simply.
For a pitcher that serves 8 drinks:
- 8 oz Jack Daniel’s
- 8 oz Triple Sec
- 8 oz Sour Mix (or 6 oz fresh lemon juice + 2 oz simple syrup)
- 16 oz Lemon-Lime Soda
Mix the whiskey, triple sec, and sour mix in a pitcher. Keep it in the fridge. When somebody wants a drink, fill a glass with ice, pour about 4 oz of the mix over it, and top with 2 oz of soda. Stir gently and garnish.
Don’t add the soda to the whole pitcher ahead of time—it’ll go flat and you’ll end up with sad, lifeless drinks that taste like disappointment. Add it to each glass as you serve.
If you’re making fresh lemon juice for a batch, squeeze enough lemons for what you need that day. Lemon juice starts tasting tired and flat after it sits for a while, and nobody wants a Lynchburg Lemonade that’s already given up.
Variations on the Lynchburg Lemonade
Once you’ve got the basic recipe down, there’s room to play around if you’re feeling adventurous.
Frozen Lynchburg Lemonade: Throw everything in a blender with about 2 cups of ice. Blend until smooth. It’s basically a whiskey slushie and it’s about as dangerous as it sounds on a hot day.
Lynchburg Lemonade Punch: For a big party, double or triple the batch recipe, add some actual lemonade to stretch it further, and float some lemon slices and fresh mint in there. Put it in a drink dispenser or a big punch bowl. People can serve themselves and you can stop playing bartender and actually enjoy your own party.
Stronger Lynchburg Lemonade: Bump the Jack Daniel’s up to 1.5 oz and cut the soda down to 1 oz. You’ll get more whiskey flavor and it won’t go down quite as dangerously easy. Good for when you want to remember the first half of the evening.
Diet Version: Use diet lemon-lime soda. It works fine and nobody’s going to notice unless you tell them.
Common Mistakes People Make
Look, this isn’t rocket science, but there are a few ways people mess up a perfectly good Lynchburg Lemonade:
Using too much soda. More isn’t better here. Too much soda and you’ve just got expensive lemon-lime soda with a whiskey aftertaste. Stick to 2 oz.
Shaking it. Don’t shake a Lynchburg Lemonade. You’re not making a margarita. Build it in the glass and give it a gentle stir. Shaking it just beats up the soda and makes it flat.
Forgetting the ice. This drink needs to be cold. Fill that glass up with ice before you start pouring. A warm Lynchburg Lemonade is nobody’s idea of a good time.
Using bottom-shelf triple sec. You don’t need Grand Marnier or Cointreau here, but grab something decent like Dekuyper or Bols. The really cheap stuff tastes like orange furniture polish and it’ll ruin the whole drink.
When to Drink a Lynchburg Lemonade
The Lynchburg Lemonade is a warm weather drink. I’m talking late spring through early fall, when it’s hot enough that you’re looking for something cold and refreshing that’s got enough kick to remind you you’re drinking whiskey.
It’s perfect for:
- Backyard cookouts and barbecues
- Pool parties (but maybe pace yourself)
- Sitting on the porch on a Saturday afternoon
- Any situation where people are drinking beer but you want something with a little more personality
- That week in July when it’s so hot you can’t remember why you live where you live
It’s not a winter drink. It’s not a sophisticated cocktail party drink. It’s not what you order when you’re trying to impress somebody with your refined palate. It’s an easy-drinking summer cocktail that tastes like lemonade and hits like whiskey, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need.
The Story Behind the Drink
Now, about that story I mentioned at the beginning. Tony Mason created this drink in 1980 at his place in Huntsville. He protected it, built his business around it, and then a Jack Daniel’s sales rep named Winston Randle came in, got the recipe on a promise that turned out to be worth about as much as a politician’s word, and Jack Daniel’s took it national without Mason ever seeing a dime.
The whole thing ended up in court—twice—and Mason got about as much justice as you’d expect a small business owner to get when he goes up against a corporation that size. Which is to say, not much.
The full story is worth reading, and it’ll make you appreciate this drink a little differently when you know what it cost the guy who invented it.
The Bottom Line
The Lynchburg Lemonade is one of those drinks that’s bigger than the story behind it, even though the story’s pretty damn good. It’s simple to make, it tastes great, and it’s been a staple on bar menus for forty-some years now because Tony Mason knew what he was doing when he mixed it up.
You can make one in about two minutes with five ingredients most people have sitting around. It’s refreshing without being weak, it’s got whiskey without tasting like you’re trying to prove something, and it’s the kind of drink that makes people say “oh, that’s good” and then ask for another one.
So mix one up. Enjoy it. And maybe take a second to appreciate that a bartender in Huntsville, Alabama created something good enough that a major corporation wanted it bad enough to steal it.
That’s got to count for something.
