For seven weeks in the fall of 2017, people in Seminole Heights, a neighborhood of Tampa, Florida, were afraid to walk their own streets. Four people were shot dead there between October 9 and November 14, each walking alone, each apparently chosen at random, all within about half a mile of one another. Police received more than 5,000 tips. The killings stopped only when the man who committed them handed a bag with a gun in it to someone at work.
Southeast Seminole Heights is an old residential district north of downtown Tampa, with bungalows, brick sidewalks and a canopy of oak trees. By 2017 it had become a place for young families, restaurants and vintage shops, where neighbors held ice cream socials and chili cook-offs. A month before the killings began, Hurricane Irma had threatened the city and then weakened, leaving piles of branches along the curbs. Those piles were still there in October, and some residents worried that someone could hide in them.
The four people who died there had no connection to one another, and none of them had any connection to the man who killed them.
Benjamin Edward Mitchell was 22, a musician and a full-time student at Hillsborough Community College. He lived on North 15th Street. At about 9 p.m. on Monday, October 9, 2017, he was waiting at the Route 9 bus stop on 15th Street, just south of East Frierson Avenue, on his way to see his girlfriend, when he was shot. Officers found him lying by the bus stop. He was taken to a hospital and died there. Police said he had no criminal record and came from "a good family."
His mother is Brenda Samuel and his sister Nakeshia Brown. His aunt, Angelique Dupree, happened to know the parents of the man later charged with his murder.
Across the street, Patrick and Kelly Holladay had seven security cameras on their bungalow. That night Kelly Holladay, sitting in the kitchen near the monitor, saw a tall, slim figure run across one of the screens. A neighbor had heard the gunshots. The Holladays waved down the arriving officers and showed them the footage, and detectives later downloaded the whole archive. It showed a man in a hooded sweatshirt walking toward the bus stop shortly before the shooting and running the other way afterward.
Monica Caridad Hoffa, 32, grew up in Tampa. Her mother is deaf, and as a girl Monica learned English, Spanish and sign language so she could interpret for her. "She was a godsend for her mother," her father, Kenny Hoffa, said. She loved poetry and was known for her drawings, and her family wrote that she never held a grudge. She was working as a waitress at an IHOP. Her father later described her as "like a ray of sunshine with a playful spirit."
Police believe she was shot on the evening of Wednesday, October 11, while walking to a friend's home. Her body lay unseen for two days in a vacant lot near the 1000 block of East New Orleans Avenue, about half a mile from where Mitchell died, until a City of Tampa employee found it on the morning of Friday, October 13. That afternoon police said they believed the two killings were connected.
Anthony Taino Naiboa was 20 and autistic. He had recently graduated from Middleton High School, and one of his goals was to get a driver's license someday. He was the eldest of five siblings. He had just started a temporary job packing relief supplies for hurricane victims in Puerto Rico. "He was going to cash his check and take us all out to dinner to celebrate his job," his younger brother, Taino, said.
On the evening of Thursday, October 19, he got on the wrong city bus coming home from work and ended up in Seminole Heights. He called home to say he would be late. He got off and started walking toward another stop on 15th Street, and he made it less than 200 yards. Officers patrolling the neighborhood heard a gunshot at about 8 p.m. and found him dead on the sidewalk between East Conover Street and East Wilder Avenue, close to Mitchell's home and about a block from where Mitchell had been shot. Police sent a helicopter, a SWAT team and dogs into the area, but the gunman got away. "I was convinced we were going to catch this person," the interim police chief, Brian Dugan, said the next morning.
"Do you know what that feels like?" Maria Rodriguez asked a reporter. "Waiting and waiting for your child to come home." (She is described in some reports as Anthony's mother and in later court reports as his stepmother.) His father is Casimar Naiboa.
After the third killing, Dugan said there was "no doubt in our minds" the cases were related. He avoided calling the gunman a serial killer, saying the phrase was too narrow for what little police knew. "How do we know there's not two stepbrothers living in a house and they're doing it together?" he asked. He told hundreds of residents at a meeting in an elementary school that anyone walking alone at night was "either a suspect or a potential victim," and that there was "a very good likelihood that someone in this room knows who's doing it." None of the victims had been robbed. Mayor Bob Buckhorn said whoever was doing it had not left the usual kinds of evidence. "It's almost like grabbing mist," he said.
Residents left their porch lights on, and police handed out bulbs to people who had none. The city boarded up abandoned houses, replaced broken streetlights and trimmed trees that cast shadows on the sidewalks. Undercover officers walked the streets. Some residents stopped walking their dogs or waiting at bus stops alone, and parents worried about Halloween. Dugan urged people not to hide indoors. "We're not going to be held hostage by whoever is doing this," he said.
Police released the Holladays' video on October 13, asking the public to identify the man in it, and a longer compilation on October 26 that showed the same person looking at a phone and later running from the area. They described him only as someone who might have seen something. The reward fund grew from $18,000 to $25,000 and then $35,000, paid for by Crime Stoppers, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives and others, and digital billboards carried the victims' faces. Buckhorn, at a police roll call, told patrol officers to "go hunt him down and bring his head to me." It became the largest police effort in Hillsborough County since the 2010 manhunt for the police killer Dontae Morris.
Then the shootings stopped for almost four weeks.
Ronald Felton, 60, had worked in construction and was out of work at the time. He had three grown children and a twin brother, Reginald. He did not own a car and got around by bus or bicycle. For about ten years he had volunteered at the food pantry of New Season Apostolic Ministries on North Nebraska Avenue, which fed about 200 families twice a week, and he usually came early to set up. "Ronnie was our Superman," a friend, Johnny Daniels, said. "He was our most trusted volunteer." According to Daniels, another volunteer said that the day before he died Felton came by the pantry and hugged everyone there, something he had never done before. His twin said he had urged him not to walk through the neighborhood so early with a killer at large. "He got his own way," Reginald said.
At about 5 a.m. on Tuesday, November 14, 2017, Felton was crossing the street near Nebraska Avenue and Caracas Street, on his way to open the pantry, when he was shot from behind. Police arrived within minutes, but again the gunman escaped.
"He left a legacy of hard work," a deacon, Isaiah Osborne, said a few days later. "He didn't let what he didn't have stop him from giving to people who don't have." That Saturday, people from across Tampa filled the church parking lot with donations of canned food in his name. The church later renamed its food bank the Ronnie Felton Food Pantry and put up a plaque in memory of "The Superman of Service." "It was real hard, but I got to face it now," Reginald Felton said. "He's gone. I can't bring him back."
The day after Felton's death, Dugan showed video taken moments before the shooting and said the man in it was the same person seen near Mitchell's killing. The "person of interest" was now a suspect. By November 16 the reward stood at $100,000, with money from the ATF, the FBI, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, Crime Stoppers, a civic association, a local brewery tour, a property company and Columbia Restaurant Group owner Richard Gonzmart. It later reached $110,000.
Investigators came closer to the killer than anyone knew. Documents released in 2018 showed that after the third killing, ATF agents following up on tips had texted Howell Donaldson III, asking him to call back about a firearm. He never did. A woman later told investigators that she was with him on the night of the fourth killing and that he left at about the time Felton was shot. A former girlfriend, Nicole Minnus, told police that during the weeks of the killings he had turned up at her mother's home with ten plastic trash bags of belongings, asking to stay. He had stopped talking to his closest friends and cut off his parents, and when she asked why, he said only, "I just can't be in that environment."
Near the scene of the Felton shooting, investigators found handwritten pages that appeared to contain scripture, with the line "What will you say when God ask you why" repeated several times. Prosecutors released photographs of them in 2018; who wrote them was never established in court.
Donaldson worked as a crew leader at the McDonald's on East 13th Avenue in Ybor City, about three miles from Seminole Heights. At about 2:30 p.m. on Tuesday, November 28, 2017, he drove up in his red 1995 Ford Mustang, wearing his uniform. He handed a bag to a co-worker and asked her to hold it while he ran an errand. In the account of the manager, Delonda Walker, he said, "I got something for you to hold for me," and promised to call later and tell her what to do with it. Reports differ on whether the bag went first to the co-worker or straight to Walker. He went to a nearby payday lender, and he had mentioned leaving the state; police later said he was getting money for a one-way plane ticket.
Inside the bag was a loaded .40-caliber Glock. Walker told a Tampa police officer who was doing paperwork in the restaurant, and the officer looked in the bag and called for backup just before 3 p.m. When Donaldson came back, police were waiting. His car, investigators found, was packed with belongings, with a suitcase and bags in the trunk. Patrick Holladay later said co-workers had joked with Donaldson that he looked like the man in the video.
Detectives questioned Donaldson for nearly four hours. Prosecutors later said that once detectives realized they did not yet have grounds to arrest him, they told him several times that he was free to go. He gave oral and written consent to searches of his car, phone and gun. He admitted the Glock was his. He said he had bought it, with a 20-round box of .40-caliber ammunition, at a Tampa store called Shooter's World on October 3, and picked it up on October 7 after the mandatory waiting period, two days before Mitchell was killed. He said he had left it at work to keep it away from his younger brother.
He was calm, talkative about basketball and his past, and silent when the questions turned to the killings. He described his relationship with his parents as turbulent. At first he said he had never been to Seminole Heights and knew no one there. When detectives said they had traced his phone's location history, he said he might have visited a friend's house. Location data placed him near the first three shootings at the times they happened, and phone records tied him to cell towers covering all four scenes. Casings from all four scenes matched his gun and its ammunition. In his car detectives found clothing like that worn by the man in the surveillance video, including a sweatshirt with what appeared to be a bloodstain. Eventually he asked for a lawyer.
At 11 p.m. Dugan announced that police would be making an arrest. "Fifty-one days ago I said this was a struggle between good and evil," Buckhorn said. "Well, tonight goodness has won." At 2:25 the next morning Donaldson was booked into the Hillsborough County jail. Dugan said he had been "friendly and nice to the cops, but he didn't give us anything," and seemed to know exactly what was happening. Pastor Matt Horan of Seminole Heights United Methodist Church rang the church bells, and for many residents it was the first night in weeks they felt safe walking outside.
On December 1 Dugan announced that Delonda Walker would receive the full $110,000 reward. The Holladays said they felt overlooked, since their video had shaped the search for weeks. Crime Stoppers' president said the reward belonged to the person whose actions led to the arrest.
Donaldson was born in Charlotte, North Carolina, on January 26, 1993, and grew up in Tampa, where family and friends called him Trai, because he was the third of his name. He grew up in a home on Millwood Drive with a younger brother and a sister. His parents, Howell Donaldson Jr. and Rosita Donaldson, run a hair academy on Waters Avenue. He played basketball at Tampa Catholic High School and then at Alonso High School, where he was a varsity guard, and graduated in 2011. That fall he enrolled at St. John's University in New York. He was a walk-on with the men's basketball team in 2011-12 but never played in a game, and he graduated in January 2017 with a degree in sports management. In 2016 his LinkedIn page listed him as a guest experience host for the New York Mets.
Back in Tampa he worked from February to May 2017 in a support role at Ultimate Medical Academy, which said he was fired for absenteeism and had passed a background check. He also gave private basketball coaching to students. Apart from traffic tickets and a sealed 2014 arrest in Manhattan, reported by the Associated Press, he had no known criminal record. He did not live or work in Seminole Heights. Former classmates and neighbors described him as quiet, polite and well liked. A neighbor said he had come over to watch football the weekend before his arrest.
No motive has ever been made public.
Donaldson made his first court appearance on November 30, 2017, and was held without bail. On December 7 a grand jury indicted him on four counts of premeditated first-degree murder, and he pleaded not guilty. In January 2018 Hillsborough State Attorney Andrew Warren announced that he would seek the death penalty. The families were divided at first: Naiboa's sister and Hoffa's uncle wanted it, while Mitchell's aunt, Angelique Dupree, said her faith would not let her support it.
Prosecutors wanted to question Donaldson's parents. They refused, and on February 16, 2018, Circuit Judge Mark Wolfe found them in civil contempt. They were ordered to wear GPS monitors and stay home except for work, church and medical visits for up to five months and 29 days unless they cooperated. Their lawyer, Ralph Fernandez, called it unprecedented to compel parents to testify against their own child; Warren said prosecutors had offered to limit their questions to anything that might surprise them at trial. In July 2018 the parents each gave a sworn statement saying they had no information about their son's whereabouts at the time of the murders or about any mental health issues, and the restrictions were lifted.
Three doctors found Donaldson competent to stand trial in July 2018, and the defense did not object. "There is no evidence and no history whatsoever of mental illness," Warren said. During 2018 the State Attorney's Office released search warrants, the interrogation recordings and nearly 2,000 photographs.
In January 2019, after 14 months in jail, Donaldson spoke to the judge for five minutes. He said he had become physically ill and could barely stand. "I'm 26 years old, I shouldn't be feeling like I'm 96 years old," he said. Wolfe ordered a medical evaluation by jail staff. Victims' relatives were unmoved. "Let him suffer in jail," Brenda Samuel said. In recorded visits from that January, released by prosecutors in April, he told his parents, "They're in here killing me," and said, "Somebody's going to have to take responsibility and accountability eventually." Wolfe later blocked the release of one jail phone call with his mother as irrelevant to the case.
A trial was set for August 10, 2020, but the defense said there were more than 300 witnesses still to interview, and then the COVID-19 pandemic slowed the courts. In October 2020 Circuit Judge Samantha Ward granted a defense request to hold four separate trials, one for each victim. In 2021 she ruled that prosecutors could not tell each jury about the other three killings, which Warren said created "new challenges." The state appealed. In April 2022 Florida's Second District Court of Appeal reversed her, holding that the fact that the same gun was used in each killing made the evidence relevant to proving who the gunman was. Each jury would now hear about the gun and the surveillance video.
Ward kept the death penalty in the case in March 2022, rejecting defense arguments that it was unconstitutional and that the grand jury should have been told of aggravating factors. The defense also sought to bar Anthony Naiboa's father and stepmother from testifying after they missed depositions; prosecutors said reliving their son's death was painful for them. In June 2022 the two sides agreed that Casimar Naiboa would not testify. In April 2023 the defense moved to throw out everything found after the stop at McDonald's, arguing that the arrest was unlawful. A trial on the first case was set for August 2023.
Weeks before that, Donaldson and his lawyers offered to plead guilty in exchange for life sentences. State Attorney Suzy Lopez, who had replaced Warren, took the offer to the families, who she said were exhausted. Most supported it, and she said her office would not have accepted it without them.
On May 1, 2023, Donaldson pleaded guilty to all four murders and was sentenced to four consecutive life terms without parole. He had maintained his innocence until that day. "There is no question this is and always will be a death penalty case," Lopez said, but the plea was entered "with the blessing of the victims' family members," who could now move forward "without a lengthy trial or appeals process." Buckhorn, by then the former mayor, said the result brought "finality."
The families did not all feel the same. Brenda Samuel said she could finally sleep. Kenny Hoffa said he could forgive the killer, and that "it is a small comfort to know" he "will never hurt another innocent person again." Nakeshia Brown said she was not ready to forgive and would not say his name. Casimar Naiboa did not accept the plea. Brian Dugan, the former police chief, who had become his friend, spoke for him.
Donaldson is serving his sentences in the Florida prison system. No later change in his status was found as of October 2026.
Brian Dugan, who led the hunt as interim chief and was then named chief, retired in 2021. Matt Horan, the pastor who rang the bells, wrote a book about the neighborhood's experience, "Church Bells at Midnight," published in 2021 with a foreword by Buckhorn, which also honors the four victims. "It's my privilege to try to take their lives and their deaths and give them some purpose," he said. In 2021, when a man was arrested for random shootings in the Pinellas County town of Seminole, the sheriff spoke of having avoided "Seminole Heights 2.0," a sign of how the name had become shorthand in the region for a community living in fear.
Why Donaldson did it remains unknown. He never explained himself in court, and the plea meant no jury ever heard the evidence. Neither the scripture notes found near the last scene nor the questions about where he was living and what he was doing in the fall of 2017 were ever addressed in open court.
January 26, 1993: Howell Emanuel Donaldson III is born in Charlotte, North Carolina.
2011: Graduates from Alonso High School in Tampa; enrolls at St. John's University.
January 2017: Graduates from St. John's.
October 3 and 7, 2017: Buys a .40-caliber Glock in Tampa and picks it up.
October 9, 2017: Benjamin Mitchell, 22, is shot at a bus stop on North 15th Street.
October 11, 2017: Monica Hoffa, 32, is shot; her body is found October 13.
October 13 and 26, 2017: Police release surveillance video of a hooded man.
October 19, 2017: Anthony Naiboa, 20, is shot after taking the wrong bus.
November 14, 2017: Ronald Felton, 60, is shot on his way to a food pantry.
November 28, 2017: Donaldson leaves a bag with a gun at the Ybor City McDonald's and is arrested.
December 1, 2017: Manager Delonda Walker is awarded the $110,000 reward.
December 7, 2017: Grand jury indicts him on four counts of first-degree murder.
January 2018: State Attorney Andrew Warren says he will seek the death penalty.
February 16 to July 2, 2018: His parents are under house arrest for contempt.
July 2018: Found competent to stand trial.
January 29, 2019: Tells the judge jail has made him ill.
October 7, 2020: Judge Samantha Ward orders four separate trials.
March 24, 2022: Ward keeps the death penalty in the case.
April 11, 2022: Appeals court rules each jury may hear evidence of all four killings.
May 1, 2023: Pleads guilty; sentenced to four consecutive life terms without parole.