I had been making my way up to the alpine chalet when I halted in my tracks, my gaze fixed on a gleaming gold W126 Mercedes-Benz S-Class equipped with winter tires and rear chains. It appeared flawless.
In an instant, I was whisked back to the garage in Fargo, N.D., that belonged to my grandparents, whom I affectionately called Grandpa and Nonnie. It felt as though I had drifted into a different realm. But that sensation was short-lived.
“Are you alright?” inquired a representative from Mercedes-Benz, his concern evident in the brief moment that followed.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied. “This car just takes me back to another time and place.”
However, my intention at the time wasn’t to reflect on the classic S-Class. I was perched on a mountainside in Austria, having spent the night in a Mercedes-Benz Sprinter RV van, preparing to drive a 2026 Mercedes-Benz CLA EV prototype.
Nevertheless, throughout the day, my thoughts repeatedly returned to that W126. It resonates with my family’s narrative.
Grandpa’s W126 on the farm fields
I was just five years old when my grandfather, Paul Feder, passed away. My recollections of him are limited, yet, as might be expected, they chiefly revolve around his last vehicle: a tailored blue-on-blue 1991 Mercedes-Benz 350 SDL.
I still inexplicably possess a digital copy of the car’s window sticker (likely a gift from my father). The Ice Blue Metallic on Blue S-Class arrived in the U.S. through the Baltimore port and was readied for delivery in Chicago. By the time of my grandfather’s passing in November 1991, the odometer read 8,408 miles. He cherished that car.
From a young age, I held certain truths: Cars should be treated with dignity and admired for their remarkable engineering.
My grandfather, an accountant, possessed commercial real estate and farmlands at the time of his passing, and he drove that car nearly everywhere.
A pivotal memory involves a journey to the farm in his diesel-powered Mercedes. While traversing the gravel road between fields, he suddenly veered off, driving straight through the crops. I panicked and yelled, “We can’t be driving through the fields in this car!” I was five.
In his usual calm demeanor, Paul Feder just smiled and replied, “It’s fine, Kitchik.” He affectionately used that term for his grandkids.
And it truly was not fine. I was in complete disbelief that we were driving this stunning blue Mercedes across a field. Yet my grandfather didn’t hesitate. That day, I even got the opportunity to ride in the combine.
Joel Feder driving the combine
After my grandfather’s death, my grandmother, Nonnie, retained the car and used it as her daily vehicle, while my father purchased her a 1990 Audi V8 quattro (an impressive performer in snowy conditions).
The automotive legacy of my grandfather continued through my grandmother and my childhood experiences. Nonnie drove the car throughout the year, equipping it with winter tires to navigate the harsh winter conditions in Fargo.
Once, during winter break, she took my sister Hannah and me to the cinema, leaving the diesel vehicle running in the parking lot to prevent the fuel from gelling in the extreme cold. I panicked, exclaiming, “Nonnie, someone is going to steal the car!” Remaining unfazed, she reassured me: “No, Dear (she addressed everyone as Dear), I’m locking it with the spare key.” And she indeed did, utilizing the pneumatic lock system that echoed a “clunk,” reminiscent of a bank vault.
Betty Feder’s 2001 Audi A6 with a vanilla and blue interior
When Nonnie eventually transitioned from the W126 to her last vehicle, a Ming Blue on vanilla and blue 2001 Audi A6 4.2, the 350 SDL was sold to a family acquaintance. I glimpsed the car two more times before it suffered its final misfortune: a collision with a deer. It was a heartbreaking conclusion to a remarkable automobile.
The Goldkäppchen W126 Illustrates How the Past Influences the Future
The striking golden W126 that caught my attention in Austria was a 1988 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE. Its Champagne metallic finish sparkled, and the sleek European headlights and compact bumpers presented a level of elegance often lost in the bulkier design of U.S.-spec vehicles. The car was even equipped with a roof rack and skis, perfect for the alpine environment.
Known at Mercedes-Benz as the Goldkäppchen car, which translates to Golden Red Riding Hood, this particular W126 is part of the collection held by Mercedes-Benz Classic, though it isn’t counted among the official 1,100 vehicles. “It’s too nice,” explained Mercedes-Benz Classic representative Peter Becker.
The responsibility for the Goldkäppchen car falls to just two individuals, Becker and one coworker. Despite being a Mercedes-Benz-owned vehicle, it operates in a somewhat informal capacity. Uniquely, it is also the only automobile in the collection equipped with winter tires.
The prior owner, a detail-oriented German, maintained an extensive collection of receipts documenting all the upkeep on the car. When Becker and his team acquired the vehicle, it had already spent a decade with its previous owner, while details of its earlier history remain vague after its initial delivery at a Daimler-Benz dealership in Mannheim on April 29, 1988. The significance of Mannheim lies in its connection to Karl Benz’s heritage.
Considering its somewhat unofficial status, the Goldkäppchen car isn’t typically available for media driving experiences. However, another journalist and friend, Eileen Falkenberg-Hull, recognized my enthusiasm upon seeing the vehicle. After reaching out to Becker, she advocated for me. Shortly thereafter, I had the keys in my possession.
The moment the laser-cut key (an innovative feature in 1988) was handed to me, I felt a deep connection with my grandparents, as if they were smiling down on me from somewhere above.
Upon grasping the driver-side door handle, it clicked shut with that unmistakable bank-vault sound, sending me back to nostalgic memories in the garage of Fargo.
As I settled into the sumptuous gold-cloth-covered seat, the hallmark scent of a classic Mercedes-Benz engulfed me. It brought back vivid memories of riding in my grandparent’s W126. I closed my eyes, recalling a trip with Nonnie to pick up my friend Mark for a playdate on Highway 7 in Minneapolis, Minnesota. That day, I discovered Nonnie was older than my grandfather when he passed, and I foolishly remarked, “Nonnie! You could drop dead any minute!” to which she chuckled. I was quite the charming child back then.
Inserting the key into the ignition immediately activated the gauges. A quick turn was all it took—no glow plug light or waiting for ignition, as this car featured a gas-powered 3.0-liter inline-6 engine. This engine boasted 179 hp and 188 lb-ft of torque, routed to the rear wheels via a 4-speed automatic transmission. My grandfather’s 1991 350SDL housed a turbodiesel-6 producing 136 hp and 228 lb-ft of torque, also channeled to the rear wheels through a similar transmission. In today’s S-Class vehicles, a 9-speed automatic transmission can manage up to 791 hp and 1,055 lb-ft of torque.
As I adjusted to the car’s dimensions, I noted how much smaller this W126 felt compared to my grandparent’s 350SDL. The “S” denoted its S-Class status, the “D” stood for diesel, while “L” indicated a long wheelbase. The latter feature provided additional legroom in the rear seat. Notably, the 350SDL was exclusive to the U.S. market, never offered in Germany—highlighting a rare occasion when America boasted a more desirable model from Mercedes.
The front seats resembled those in my grandparents’ vehicle, although these were upholstered in gold cloth rather than blue leather. I felt the springs beneath the seat as they compressed under my weight, yet the seats provided ample support with their plush, thick padding.
After we took some quick photos, I drove down the mountain with Falkenberg-Hull in the passenger seat, assisting with documentation of this remarkable experience. She played a pivotal role in making this memorable moment happen.
Once the initial thrill of driving a W126 faded, I began to fully absorb the driving experience. Inevitably, I started to draw comparisons with the 2025 Mercedes-Benz S 580e 4Matic that I had just driven through a winter storm, colored in captivating China Blue and showcasing a Manufaktur Deep White interior. While I would have preferred aManufaktur Yacht Blue interior…until next time, Mercedes.
The seating arrangement in the W126 is noticeably more upright compared to the current S-Class, and the abundance of glass in the greenhouse area enhances visibility substantially. Coupled with the slender pillars, the outward view is exceptional.
From the driver’s perspective, the hood appears to stretch endlessly, and it could easily accommodate the landing of an aircraft. Unlike today’s S-Class, it maintains a more upright design, allowing visibility of every facet of that front end right up to the iconic Mercedes-Benz star.
The 3.0-liter inline-6 engine doesn’t deliver the same power as the current plug-in hybrid S-Class, which boasts 503 hp and 533 lb-ft of torque. Pressing the accelerator in the W126 resulted in a gradual and somewhat sluggish response from the 4-speed automatic, but it transitions smoothly, coupled with a noticeable shift that raises the RPMs. The acceleration builds up slowly, relying on torque as the engine rarely reaches the upper limits on the tachometer. This is a car that thrives on momentum.
To protect the pristine condition of the Goldkäppchen car, Becker had it equipped with chains in the rear, which meant I maintained a cautious speed, never exceeding 60 kph (37 mph) and averaging about 45 kph (28 mph) while cruising.
Inside, the W126 was nearly as hushed as today’s S-Class despite the howling wind surrounding it. There was virtually no noise from the inline-6 intruding into the cabin; the only sounds were the gentle clatter of the chains from the rear tires connecting with the road.
The soft suspension effectively absorbed every jolt from the road, akin to how the adaptive air suspension in the 580e 4Matic smooths out bumps. While the W126 exhibited more body roll in corners than the modern S-Class, it remained controlled and stable, unlike the exaggerated rolling of the Lincolns and Buicks my other grandparents owned during my childhood.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect was the steering feel. It was perfectly weighted, giving the sensation of maneuvering the steering rack through honey as the wheel turned—remarkably smooth. There was a slight lack of center feel, which was far from aggravating, especially when compared to the “modern”Ineos Grenadier, which features a circulating ball steering system. The W126 offered precise handling and didn’t meander within its lane as the Grenadier often does.
The parallels between the W126 and today’s S-Class are striking, encompassing aspects such as proportions, build quality, and overall experience—they feel remarkably similar yet distinctly of their own time.
Ultimately, driving the W126 was like completing a circle in my automotive and familial journey. My grandparents’ W126 departed from the family before I obtained my driver’s license, so I never had the chance to drive that car. Experiencing the Goldkäppchen car provided closure and served as a reminder that even today’s S-Class embodies the heritage and stature of a flagship vehicle. I can’t help but wonder how the current S-Class would appear in Ice Blue Metallic paired with a blue interior.
Image Source: Ibrahim Mersim / Shutterstock
