I was trekking through the snow-covered Austrian Alps when a vision in gold stopped me dead in my tracks. Gleaming under the winter sun was a W126 Mercedes-Benz S-Class, fitted with winter tires and chains on the rear. It was a picture of vintage perfection, instantly whisking me away to my grandparents’ garage in Fargo, North Dakota. The wave of nostalgia was intense, a vivid out-of-body experience that, thankfully, didn’t last too long.
A Mercedes-Benz spokesperson, noticing my captivated gaze, asked if I was alright. “Yeah, I’m good,” I replied, still somewhat lost in the moment. “This car…it just takes me back.”
My mission in Austria was to test drive futuristic Mercedes-Benz models – a Sprinter RV van and a 2026 Mercedes-Benz CLA EV prototype. Yet, throughout the day, my mind kept drifting back to that W126. It wasn’t just a car; it was a tangible piece of my family history, deeply intertwined with cherished memories.
The Farm Fields and a Blue 1991 Mercedes-Benz 350 SDL
My grandfather, Paul Feder, passed away when I was just five years old. My recollections of him are fragmented, yet powerfully centered around his last car: a stunning, custom-ordered blue-on-blue 1991 Mercedes-Benz 350 SDL. This wasn’t just any car; it was a symbol of his refined taste and appreciation for quality.
Remarkably, I still possess a digital copy of the original window sticker, a testament to my father’s foresight. The Ice Blue Metallic Mercedes-Benz S-Class, with its luxurious Blue interior, arrived stateside via the port of Baltimore and was prepped for delivery in Chicago. Tragically, my grandfather passed away in November of 1991, shortly after acquiring his dream car. In its brief time with him, the odometer only reached 8,408 miles, each one undoubtedly cherished. He truly adored that car.
From a young age, I absorbed his automotive ethos: cars were more than mere transportation; they were engineering marvels deserving of respect and admiration. This early influence shaped my lifelong passion for automobiles.
My grandfather, a practical accountant with investments in commercial real estate and farmland, used his Mercedes-Benz 350 SDL as his daily driver, regardless of terrain. He wasn’t one to shy away from putting his prized possession to work.
One particularly vivid memory involves a trip to the farm in his diesel Mercedes. We were navigating the gravel road separating the fields when, without warning, he veered off-road, driving directly into the field. As a five-year-old, I was aghast. “We can’t drive through the fields in this car!” I exclaimed, my childhood logic screaming in protest.
Ever the epitome of calm and wisdom, Paul Feder simply smiled and reassured me, “It’s fine, Kitchik.” “Kitchik” was his endearing nickname for his grandchildren.
But in my young mind, it wasn’t fine at all! The sheer audacity of driving this magnificent blue Mercedes through a muddy field was incomprehensible. Yet, my grandfather was unfazed. That day, I didn’t just ride in the Mercedes; I also got to experience the thrill of riding in the combine harvester – a stark contrast, yet equally memorable.
After my grandfather’s passing, my grandmother, Nonnie, inherited the 1991 350 SDL and made it her everyday vehicle. My father, ensuring her safety in the harsh Fargo winters, bought her a 1990 Audi V8 quattro – a snow-conquering machine equipped with Nokian Hakkapeliittas tires.
My grandfather’s automotive legacy continued through my grandmother and shaped my formative years. Nonnie drove the W126 year-round, confidently navigating the snowy and frigid Fargo winters on dedicated winter tires.
I recall a winter break movie outing with my sister Hannah and Nonnie. To prevent the diesel fuel from gelling in the extreme cold, she left the Mercedes-Benz idling in the parking lot for the entire movie duration. My childhood anxiety flared up. “Nonnie, someone’s going to steal the car!” I panicked. With her characteristic calmness, she replied, “No, Dear (everyone was “Dear”), I’m locking it with the spare key.” And indeed, she engaged the pneumatic locking system, the doors sealing shut with a reassuring “clunk,” as precise and secure as a bank vault. This feature, standard on the Mercedes-Benz S-Class, was a testament to the car’s engineering and luxury.
When Nonnie eventually transitioned from the W126 to her final car, a Ming Blue on vanilla and blue 2001 Audi A6 4.2, the cherished 350SDL was sold to a family friend. Sadly, I only saw it twice more before its unfortunate demise – a collision with a deer. A truly heartbreaking end to a remarkable vehicle that held so much sentimental value.
The “Goldkäppchen” W126: A Testament to Enduring Excellence
The gold W126 that captivated me in Austria was a 1988 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE. Its Champagne metallic paint shimmered, and the European-spec headlights and sleek bumpers exuded an understated elegance, a welcome contrast to the less refined, larger bumpers and headlights mandated on US-spec models. A roof rack with skis hinted at its adventurous spirit, perfectly suited to the Alpine setting.
Within Mercedes-Benz circles, this particular W126 is affectionately known as the “Goldkäppchen car,” German for “Golden Red Riding Hood.” Owned by Mercedes-Benz Classic, it’s not officially part of their vast 1,100-car collection. As Mercedes-Benz Classic spokesperson Peter Becker explained, “It’s too nice.” This speaks volumes about its exceptional condition and desirability.
The “Goldkäppchen” car is entrusted to the care of only two individuals, Becker and a colleague, operating almost as an “off-the-books” passion project within Mercedes-Benz Classic. Uniquely within the collection, it’s fitted with winter tires, ready for any wintry escapade.
The previous meticulous German owner had amassed a thick folder of maintenance receipts, documenting fastidious care. While the car spent a decade with this owner before Mercedes-Benz acquired it, its history prior to that is less documented, aside from its initial delivery to a Daimler-Benz dealership in Mannheim on April 29, 1988. Mannheim holds historical significance as the birthplace of Karl Benz, adding another layer of intrigue to this particular vehicle.
Being somewhat of a hidden gem, the “Goldkäppchen” car isn’t typically available for media drives. However, journalist Eileen Falkenberg-Hull, a friend of Becker, recognized my profound reaction to the car. She kindly vouched for me, texting Becker and paving the way for an unexpected opportunity. Minutes later, the keys were in my hand.
The moment the laser-cut key (a remarkable innovation in 1988) touched my palm, I felt an inexplicable connection to my grandparents. I imagined them smiling down, sharing in this special moment.
The driver’s side door handle yielded with that signature bank-vault “clunk,” instantly transporting me back to the Fargo garage, flooded with cherished memories.
Slipping into the front seat, upholstered in luxurious gold cloth, the unmistakable classic Mercedes-Benz aroma enveloped me. It was identical to the scent of my grandparents’ W126. Closing my eyes, I was instantly back in time, recalling car rides with Nonnie, heading to pick up my friend Mark for playdates. It was during one of these drives that I, in my innocent childhood bluntness, declared to Nonnie, “Nonnie! You could drop dead any minute!” upon realizing she was older than my grandfather had been when he passed. She, thankfully, responded with laughter. Childhood candor at its finest.
Interior shot of the “Goldkäppchen” 1988 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE, showcasing the classic gold cloth upholstery and the well-preserved dashboard, embodying the luxury of the era.
Inserting the key into the ignition brought the gauges to life. A turn, then another, and the engine sprang to life. Unlike my grandfather’s diesel, there was no glow plug light or waiting period; this 300 SE boasted a gasoline-powered 3.0-liter inline-6 engine. This refined straight-six produced 179 horsepower and 188 lb-ft of torque, delivered to the rear wheels via a smooth 4-speed automatic transmission. In contrast, my grandfather’s 1991 350SDL turbodiesel-6 generated 136 hp and 228 lb-ft of torque, also with a 4-speed automatic. Modern S-Class models boast 9-speed automatic transmissions and significantly more power, with top-tier models reaching up to 791 hp and 1,055 lb-ft of torque.
Settling into the driver’s seat, the W126 felt noticeably smaller than my grandparent’s 350SDL. The “S” in S-Class denoted Sonderklasse (Special Class), “D” signified diesel, and “L” indicated long-wheelbase. The extended wheelbase of the 350SDL primarily benefited rear passenger legroom. Interestingly, the 350SDL was a US-market exclusive, never offered in Germany, a rare instance where America received a unique and arguably more desirable Mercedes-Benz variant.
Front three-quarter view of the “Goldkäppchen” 1988 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE, emphasizing its iconic silhouette and the classic Mercedes-Benz star hood ornament.
The front seats, while trimmed in gold cloth instead of blue leather, were otherwise identical to those in my grandparents’ car. I could feel the familiar springs compress beneath me, offering ample support and comfort from the generously sized seat bottom.
After capturing some initial photos, I embarked on a drive down the mountain, with Falkenberg-Hull in the passenger seat, documenting this special occasion.
Once the initial euphoria of driving a W126 subsided, I began to truly appreciate the driving experience. Naturally, comparisons to the 2025 Mercedes-Benz S 580e 4Matic, which I had recently driven in a blizzard, painted in China Blue with a Manufaktur Deep White interior, were inevitable. Though, personally, I’d have opted for a Manufaktur Yacht Blue interior – perhaps next time, Mercedes.
The W126 driving position is more upright than today’s S-Class, and the expansive glass area, coupled with slender pillars, provides exceptional outward visibility.
The hood stretched out seemingly endlessly, a vast expanse reminiscent of an aircraft carrier deck. Unlike the sloping hoods of modern S-Classes, the W126 hood is flat and prominent, offering a clear view of every inch of the front end, culminating in the upright Mercedes-Benz star.
The 3.0-liter inline-6 lacked the instant thrust of the modern plug-in hybrid S-Class, with its impressive 503 hp and 533 lb-ft of torque. Depressing the accelerator in the W126 resulted in a deliberate, almost leisurely, kickdown of the 4-speed automatic, followed by a smooth but perceptible shift and a gradual increase in revs. Forward momentum built steadily, emphasizing torque over high-revving power. This was a car designed for effortless cruising, not outright speed.
Given the “Goldkäppchen” car was equipped with tire chains, and out of respect for its pristine condition, I refrained from exceeding 60 kph (37 mph), maintaining an average cruising speed of around 45 kph (28 mph).
Inside the cabin, the W126 rivaled the hushed serenity of contemporary S-Class models, effectively isolating wind noise. The inline-6 engine remained a distant hum, with the rhythmic clatter of the tire chains on the pavement being the most prominent sound.
The supple suspension effortlessly absorbed road imperfections, mirroring the composed ride of the 580e 4Matic’s adaptive air suspension. Cornering in the W126 exhibited more body lean than the modern S-Class, yet it remained composed and predictable, never feeling unwieldy or unstable. It certainly didn’t exhibit the excessive roll characteristic of the Lincolns and Buicks that my other grandparents owned during my childhood.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect was the steering. Nicely weighted and remarkably smooth, it felt like guiding the steering rack through honey. While there was a slight degree of on-center play, it was far from intrusive, unlike the more pronounced vagueness in the steering of a “modern” Ineos Grenadier with its recirculating ball system. The W126 steering was precise and tracked straight, unlike the Grenadier’s tendency to wander.
The parallels between the W126 and the vault-like solidity and experience of today’s S-Class are striking. From the overall proportions to the unwavering build quality and the sense of occasion, there’s a clear lineage, despite the decades separating them.
Driving the “Goldkäppchen” W126 felt like a significant moment, a completion of a circle in my automotive and personal journey. My grandparents’ 1991 Mercedes-Benz S-Class left our family before I was old enough to drive. I never had the chance to experience it firsthand. Driving the “Goldkäppchen” car closed that loop, reaffirming the enduring legacy of the S-Class as a flagship, a standard-bearer for luxury and engineering. It also sparked a thought: I wonder what the current S-Class would look like in Ice Blue Metallic with a blue interior? A fitting tribute, perhaps.
Mercedes-Benz generously covered travel and accommodation expenses for me to test drive the CLA EV prototype and experience van life in the Alps during a blizzard. The opportunity to drive the “Goldkäppchen” W126 was an unexpected and deeply appreciated bonus.
