A Valentine’s Day celebration turned into a scene of unimaginable violence in the early hours of February 14, 2026, when a 29-year-old father of two was shot and killed on a party bus in downtown Cincinnati. Tobias Hood, a server at Quaker Steak and Lube in Colerain Township, had spent the previous evening working his shift before excitedly joining his brother and friends for a birthday celebration aboard the bus.
He was remembered by coworkers as “always the life of the party,” a man who was “very sweet” and whose sole focus that night was celebrating with the people he loved. Instead, just after 12:30 a.m., the bus in the 200 block of East Third Street—a location just a short walk from Great American Ball Park—became the site of a homicide.
According to Cincinnati Police, an altercation erupted on the bus, during which 28-year-old De’Angelo Robinson allegedly produced a 9mm handgun and fatally shot Hood in the face. As Robinson attempted to flee the vehicle, he encountered the bus driver, who was unable to open the door quickly enough.
Court documents state that Robinson then shot the driver in the jaw as retaliation for “failing to open the bus door quick enough.” The driver, a man in his 40s, was rushed to the University of Cincinnati Medical Center in serious condition but is expected to survive. Police described the attack as “unprovoked.”
Robinson fled the bus on foot near the Moxy Hotel, running through Hammond Alley as police flooded the area. Officers quickly apprehended him and recovered a firearm at the scene. He was arrested and charged with murder and felonious assault. In court, Robinson’s attorney claimed self-defense, arguing that Robinson “became paranoid” after allegedly seeing Hood with a gun in his jacket and believed he was about to be shot. Prosecutors countered that there was no evidence Hood was armed and that Robinson’s actions were unjustified. A judge set Robinson’s bond at $1.5 million, and he awaits a grand jury hearing.
For those who knew and loved Tobias Hood, the loss is immeasurable. His mother, Janeen Henry-Hood, who was recovering in the hospital when she learned of her son’s death, described him as a loving father to two young daughters, a funny man who loved to dance, and someone who was mechanically gifted.
His coworkers at the restaurant, many of whom had worked with him just hours before his death, were left reeling. “It was his brother’s birthday, he was so excited to get on that bus, like that’s all he talked about all night,” one coworker recalled through tears. The restaurant began collecting donations to support his family, as colleagues described him not just as a friend, but as family.
Even in her profound grief, Janeen Henry-Hood offered a message of grace to her son’s killer, saying, “Just because something so severe has taken place doesn’t mean that tomorrow is over. We all get a chance and we can redefine ourselves and hopefully that peace will walk with him.” As the community processes this tragedy, the focus remains on the two young daughters who must now grow up without their father, and on the friends and family who are left to carry on without a bright light who brought joy to everyone he encountered.