How NYC Dollar Vans are Adapting for the Future

Thousands in New York City rely on an unofficial system of public commuter vans to get around—one that is not part of the MTA. These vehicles—better known as dollar vans—have served riders across New York City for half a century, but their future is unclear.

This story comes to us from Feet in 2 Worlds, an independent media outlet and journalism training program that empowers the voices of immigrant journalists.

Thousands in New York City rely on an unofficial system of public commuter vans to get around—one that is not part of the MTA. These vehicles—better known as dollar vans—have served riders across New York City for half a century, but their future is unclear.

The city’s government has struggled to regulate them, and growing operating costs of the vans pose challenges for both drivers and the riders who rely on them.

Feet in 2 Worlds Producer Andrés Pacheco-Girón speaks with riders, drivers, and entrepreneurs all navigating what comes next for these dollar vans.

It’s 2:30 a.m. on a weekday, and Corey, a videographer born and raised in Brooklyn, has just finished a late shift. He is waiting for the bus on Flatbush Avenue to go home, but the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) schedule on his phone says the next bus won’t arrive for another hour. 

New York is considered to have one of the best public transit systems in the United States. But people like Corey, who live in the outer boroughs—like Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx—have limited access to the subway. When the subway isn’t available, they might take the bus instead. But when there are neither buses nor subways going where they need to go, things get complicated.

As Corey is waiting, he sees a white van with tinted windows driving through the street in the middle of the night. A dollar van has saved his commute. Dollar vans take passengers across fixed corridors just like a bus would, although they are not part of MTA.

Historically, neighborhoods without subways—where buses are dominant—are also where people of color and immigrants live. There are some exceptions, like Chinatown and Harlem, which are in Manhattan and have robust access to the subway. But over time, as more immigrants moved to New York, many of them settled in neighborhoods located in the outer boroughs. And when those immigrant New Yorkers couldn’t rely on official transportation, they had to get creative.

They brought to New York City a service they were familiar with from their homelands: un-official public transportation in the form of colorful decorated vans with different personalities. Like tro-tros in Ghana, dalla dallas in Tanzania, jeepneys in the Philippines, and chivas in Colombia. Following the New Yorker tradition of naming things after their price—like dollar pizza slices, or quarter waters—dollar vans became part of the fabric of the city.

Immigrant vans For a city of immigrants

Commuter vans—the official name for dollar vans—have been in New York for more than 50 years. Eric Goldwyn, director of the transportation and land use program at NYU’s Marron Institute of Urban Management, says that dollar vans originated in New York around the 1970s, but a famous transit strike in New York in 1980 is seen as the catalytic moment that put them on the map. Goldwyn says that “during a transit strike, when there’s no bus or subway, people still need to get places. So, entrepreneurs would pack people into their vans and bring them into Manhattan.” 

Over time, the dollar van business grew and transformed. Today, it is rarer to find dollar vans that charge just one dollar, since their price varies depending on the route. And depending on every neighborhood’s demographics, the riders and drivers might have diverse origins.

In Flatbush, most dollar vans now charge a two-dollar fare. And Goldwyn says that Flatbush’s dollar vans “are predominantly operated by and patronized by West Indian Black populations.” Commuters prefer them over the bus for different reasons. Corey, who is of Panamanian descent and grew up in Flatbush, says, “the minute you step in the van, you hear the accent, and it brings you back home. My grandparents speak with an accent and it’s a nostalgic moment for me.”

But for most, it comes down to efficiency. Goldwyn explains that if you’re traveling from Livingston Street to Kings Plaza Mall along Flatbush Avenue, the B41 bus might take anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour and 15 minutes, depending on delays or traffic. That’s an uncertainty window of 30 minutes for buses. In contrast, dollar vans complete the same trip in 40 to 50 minutes, with an uncertainty window of 10 minutes. “The fact that people could count on the vans to where they need to go more predictably is quite attractive. That is what public transit should strive for,” Goldwyn says.

Most dollar van passengers have clustered origins and destinations, and that means the van will make fewer stops than a bus driving on the same route. So they work just like an express train would.

Although thousands of commuters rely on dollar vans, the city authorities haven’t figured out a way to regulate them effectively. According to Goldwyn, hailing dollar vans on the street is technically illegal. Hailing a vehicle is a privilege and right of a yellow taxi.

Drivers also face challenges meeting the current requirements set by the city’s Taxi Limousine Commission, or TLC. Requirements include regular TLC inspections and insurance costs that can go as high as 50,000 dollars. “It’s set up to be difficult, and it’s a long process,” says Hilltop Boss, a longtime dollar van driver on Utica Avenue. “So by the time you go through that process, you might not even want to do the dollar van.”

Those bureaucratic hoops have impacted the number of licensed commuter vans that operate in New York. In October 2024, David Do, the TLC chair and commissioner, said there are only 35 commuter vans licensed by the TLC. That number decreased from 215 in 2019. Still, one can see many more than just 35 dollar vans operating across the outer boroughs. 

What does the future look like?

With rising costs—from gas and insurance to vehicle maintenance—pushing drivers to operate illegally, the future for dollar vans remains uncertain. “Something has to give here,” says Su Sanni, founder of Dollaride, a company aiming to transform the industry by modernizing dollar vans’ business model, and transitioning them from gas-powered to electric. “Either the operating costs of the vehicle need to get lower somehow. Or the amount of money a driver earns needs to get higher.”

Sanni says that electrifying dollar vans could mean up to 70 percent in savings for drivers. And considering that most neighborhoods where dollar vans operate experience high levels of air pollution, Sanni says that green energy “could ultimately kill two or three birds with one stone.” 

But not everyone in the dollar van community shares Sanni’s optimism. Many drivers are skeptical of Dollaride’s approach and don’t see the company as a solution to their needs. Meanwhile, the Commuter Van Association of New York continues to advocate for city policies that could ease financial burdens, such as lowering insurance premiums or supporting licensed drivers.

Despite these challenges, drivers in neighborhoods like Flatbush and Utica are finding their own ways to improve their services and build clientele. Longtime driver Hilltop Boss, alongside his colleagues, have been organizing an annual back-to-school drive. It’s a block party with a school supplies giveaway designed to attract new riders and strengthen driver-rider bonds in the Flatbush community. “We’re showing people we’re still here, still working hard for them,” Hilltop Boss says. “Without the community, we wouldn’t even exist.”

As dollar van drivers face decisions about their future—whether to pursue a business model like Dollaride’s or push further for policy changes—they remain a vital lifeline for many New Yorkers. Whatever path they take, one thing is clear: the future of dollar vans must include the voices of the riders and drivers who rely on them every day.

Credits: Hosted by Quincy Surasmith. Story produced by Andrés Pacheco-Girón Edited by Lushik Lotus-Lee, Mia Warren, and Quincy Surasmith. Engineering by Kojin Tashiro. Theme music by Fareed Sajan. Additional music by Kojin Tashiro and Blue Dot Sessions.