Travis Barker: The ‘Wound That Almost Never Heals’

Welcome to all there is. Wherever you are in the world and in your grief, I'm glad you're here. My guest today is legendary drummer Travis Barker. He's probably best known as a member of the band, Blink 182. Travis's mom, Gloria Barker, died from complications related to showgren syndrome, which is an autoimmune disease in 1990. Travis was just about to start high school when she died. It was Gloria who'd bought Travis his first drum kit and did whatever she could to make sure that he used it. In 2008, Travis Barker got on a private plane in South Carolina after a concert with his friend and collaborator Adam Goldstein, known as DJ AM. Also with him was Travis's close friend and assistant, Chris Baker. His security guard, Charles, Chase Still, and two pilots. The plane, however, crashed on takeoff. Travis, Adam Goldstein, were the only survivors. Though he was badly burned, Travis spent months in a hospital and burn center to underwent 27 surgeries. Less than a year later, after the crash, the only other survivor Adam Goldstein, DJ AM, died of an overdose. He'd been sober for 12 years. Travis was born in 1975 in Fontana, California. He's been married to his wife, Courtney Kardashian, since 2022. Over the last 10 years, he's been working on a documentary about his life, which has just come out called Louder Than Fear, spoke to Travis a few weeks ago. I wanted to talk about early loss with you first. Your mom, Gloria, died right before you started high school. Yeah, day before high school. The day before. It's true that she took drum lessons with you and learned to read music with you. Yeah, so it started with pots and pans when I was four, and I had seen animal from the muppets on TV. That was it. I was in love with drumming. And then it turned into my mom and dad realizing he's really into this. And my mom loved the police, the Beatles, Elvis Presley. My dad raised me on Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Buck Owens. They really wanted me to pursue the drums. So it came time I took lessons. And my mom was watching everything, like learning paradiddles, learning flams, learning basic beats. So up until the time she passed away, she was as good at drums as I was. Wow. Yeah, she did that because she wanted to help you. Yeah, I think her thought process was she didn't want me to get home and not understand something. When did she get sick? It's all kind of a blur to me from the time I was born to what I was like 13. It's kind of a mystery. I don't remember a lot of it. You don't either. We also didn't have like a video camera growing up because I don't have any videos of my mom. I have a few photos. And then once she was sick, she didn't want anyone to take photos of her. I understand how it was explained to me. It was only a few months after she was diagnosed with cancer that she passed away. Did you know she had cancer as a kid? Not because they misdiagnosed it forever. They didn't know what was going on. And then finally someone said, "This is cancer. Did you know she might done?" No. I had no clue that that was going to happen. No one had talked about her. No, my dad worked at a steel meal and he was there like 60 hours a week, you know, providing for our family. He was basically at work all day. My mom was at home and she had a daycare so she would take care of her kids. So long story short, yeah, I had no idea. And I'd never experienced loss before that. Were you there when she'd done? Right before. Right before I remember they were like, "You gotta get down there." And luckily I got down there at the day she passed and had a chance for her to say like, "Persume music. Like I really want you to pursue music." I still didn't think those were last words. But those were her last words to you. From the time my mom said that to me, it was like tunnel vision. I feel like when a parent passes like this, I feel like they're an angel and they help you. So many ways, you know. I feel that you feel your mom in that way. I do feel like, to me, she's not just dead and gone. I do feel her presence. It's almost ignorant to think I could just be so blessed to have everything I have now without her and a lot of people that have passed. My son's two and a half. His name's Rocky 13 Barker. He's so funny. And I'll play with his hair and it's like the one thing I remember my mom used to just put her hands through my hair. And it was like so soothing and I would fall asleep. So there's little things like I don't know how I remember that, you know, of all things after she died. Did you talk about her? Not really. I remember even being at her funeral and I was like just trying to be so tough. You know, my dad always taught me to be tough. Did you cry? Yeah, but I tried not to for so long, you know. And then one of my aunts walked up to me and it was just broke down. And then after that, nothing really changed. My dad still had to go to work 60 hours a week. My sisters were doing their own thing. I just showed up to high school the first day at high school and tried out for band and made marching band, snare line, which was like a big accomplishment. I joined jazz band, joined orchestra, just head down, no one to talk to, but played the drums. You went to school the day after you're on that. Do you remember that? When my dad died, I was in fifth grade and I had a sense of shame about it for some reason. Like I remember a kid wanted to come over. I remember a kid wanted to come over to my house and I was angry about it because I didn't want him to see, like, yeah, I didn't want him to see it. I didn't want him to see me, like, sad or I didn't want him to see me. Yeah, just I didn't want anyone to acknowledge it. He has seen? But he tried out for music right away. Yeah. Was that because of what your mom said? Yeah, and it's pretty much all I knew, right? I didn't really know a next step or a step to take after that happen, except to pick up where I left off and keep playing drums. That's what I did. That was like your anchor. Yeah, that's all I focused on, like, head down, play the drums. Your manager, Lauren, said every time he hits a drum, there's a part of his anger that comes out. I think that's true. Maybe it's not anger. Maybe it's like his hurt, you know, like what he's, what he, what I've been through. And it's therapeutic for me. You said his hurt. My hurt. Yeah, my hurt. I thought maybe I thought maybe men like the little boy you were. Oh, yeah, for sure, everything, because I think years of not talking to anybody, like your mom passes, you don't talk to anyone. How are you dealing with it? You're not right. You're just like muscling through it. That's what my dad taught me to do. He's like, be tough. You're strong, whatever. So that's what I told myself a lot. So I think years of not talking about it, probably until like my first therapy session, which was in my 30s. And that was to help me stop using drugs and then a ton of things come up. You didn't deal with any of this stuff until in your 30s. You push it down and that's when it started to bubble up. Yeah, from the time she passed until I had my son and my kids, I was sort of okay with also passing away young. I was like, if I get to 21, I'm happy. And I very much like live that way for a long time. And then once I started touring, it was like drugs and smoking and everything. I remember my manager at one point. I was like, don't you want to have kids and grow old? And I was like, no, it's not what I want to do. I want to play drums. I want to like live for the day. I don't want to worry about tomorrow too much. I also didn't have a lot of hope around me where I grew up. There was no one that was really successful or got to leave. So when I got to leave, it was a big deal. I think it gave me a lot of hope after my mom had passed. My dad gave me an ultimatum. He said, you're either going to join the military like me. He was in the army, fought being numb, rode a Harley's whole life and worked at a steel mill. So it's like, you're going to do something very similar to me. You're going to work 60 hours a week and pay rent. You're going to leave. And you're going to go figure it out. So I said, I'm going to leave and I'm going to go figure it out. I got an offer to play in my friend's band Feeble. I moved to Laguna Beach and become a trash man and I did it and I wasn't living where I grew up. I got out and that was just to see other things and see the possibilities. It gave me so much hope. My only goal was to have enough money to eat, sleep and play drums. And once I accomplished that, I was like, this is the best thing ever. That was like a dream that almost seemed unachievable from where I came from. There was no one else I knew that was playing drums for a living or music for a living or had a job where they could still try to play drums. music that's what keeps me happy that's what like feeds my soul is playing music and I just just completely threw myself into that. You said you feel your mom what does that feel like? Well two things I think if she was alive I don't know if I would have tried it hard because I had this desire in me to fulfill what she said to me and I was like I have to do it that's the least thing I can do right and then I think of the luck of moving to Laguna and then being in the Aquabats and then filling in for Blink in 45 minutes notice like I'm like it's trickery like she has to be helping me there's no way. With Blink the drummer something happened right before a show you filled it exactly yeah learned everything in 45 minutes play the next three shows afterwards like we've never sounded better we had so much fun playing with you we we'd be in our band so I just think the discipline to keep practicing after she passed away I feel like it was her that that maybe helped me. We'll be back with more of my conversation with Travis Barker. In 2024 a man was killed by the FBI and to this day the authorities have refused to say why he was a father an ex-husband and a Russian-born American citizen. He just seemed like a lonely guy and he needed a friend and he kind of talked about death then he talked about you just never know when it's your time. I'm CNN investigative reporter Isabel Chapman. Host of the new limited series Civilian or Spy. They noticed that he was communicating with people that were of concern to the FBI. Oh my god Jesus. Head over to the CNN presents feed and listen to our three-part series Civilian or Spy. Available wherever you get your podcasts. Had flying been an issue for you? Yes. When I was really young we went to Chicago and my mom was so upset. She was terrified. Yeah she was terrified and she was bawling and I remember my dad trying to like calm her down and I remember being scared because I saw my mom scared, right? And then the first band I was in the start of touring a lot was the Aquabats and we would fly and I would be so terrified. The only thing I can connect the dots to is my mom. I didn't like anything about it. I didn't like being out of control. I didn't like the way it made me feel. Then in blink, sometimes we were flying three times a day. Three shows were playing like radio shows, especially when the band first took off and I would just be white knuckling it. I'd be like if this plane lands, I'm going to play the best show. I'm going to do this. I'm going to do that. You know I would just I just if you hate flying, flying three times a day is I mean that's a nightmare. It was hard yeah and then somewhere along the way someone said just take a Norco or bike it in before you get on the plane. You're going to chill out. So September 19th, 2008, what happened? I was in South Carolina and I was with Little Chris, my friend Che, you know some of my best friends. Little Chris also was in the system of yours as well and Che was security. Yeah, Little Chris was basically my brother that I met 19 years into my life. You know and Che was like yeah, security who was like a really good friend and we met A.M. in South Carolina. A.M. is DJ A.M. Adam Goldstein. Yeah, Adam Goldstein. So we go there. We play this this show in South Carolina. We were scheduled to fly home the next morning on a commercial flight and everyone kind of wanted to go home that night. Our manager just found something and found a private plane. Yeah and we were leaving at around 11 or midnight. So on the plane where you Chris, Che, Adam and the two pilots. Yeah, we pulled up to the airport and I see this little plane way out there and I'm like there's no way that's our plane. And I told Little Chris I said man I have a bad feeling, you know he's like same. I don't like this plane. I call my dad. I said I don't know about it. It's just weird. I have the weirdest feeling. And then yeah, I just have a blunt in the car, take a couple bike it in. I just get on the plane. That's how I would force myself on planes at that point, you know. During takeoff, our landing gear, the tires popped. Plains skidded across the runway, caught fire and then attempted to take off. You were in the emergency exit seat. Yeah, I was it was me, am Chris and Che. The plane was was trying to take off, attempting to take off and then it would hit the ground and then it would take off and then it would hit the ground. And I was sort of just waiting for it to be lights out for me. And then when we finally hit this embankment, I was still alive. It was like complete chaos, like smoke, fire. There's a police dash cam officer arrives on the scene and you say call for an ambulance. Do you remember the getting out of the plane? Yeah. I remember everything, unfortunately. I attempted to get up, get out of the plane, try to go forward and get to change Chris. My my hands caught fire because the inside of the plane was on fire. And then once my hands caught on fire, I went to my left, I shook am, I got him out. I pulled him out of his seat, opened the emergency exit, tried to jump out of the plane. You jumped into the jet fuel. Yeah. I jumped into the jet fuel. My whole body caught fire and then I ran into oncoming traffic on a highway. An ambulance behind me, just like screaming and then I heard heard someone in a car just say stop dropping roll. Like what we're taught when we're kids but I never I didn't even think of it. I was just stripping on my clothes off because there were I was on fire and then I stopped dropping roll. And the last thing that was the worst on me was my socks were filled with jet fuel. He patted me out and then maybe 20 seconds later the plane blew up and just waited for anyone to come. I mean I read reports you were burned over 65-70 something percent of your body. 70 percent of my body was burnt. Burn injuries are excruciatingly awful and painful. I don't think you ever think about it. I never thought about it but burns and the treating of burns was the most pain of a very experienced. When I got to the LA burn center, they put you in this big pan that's about as big as this table and they have to scrape your burns with a metal brush to get all to get everything out and clean you very thoroughly. I remember that but I couldn't remember. I was asking where chain chris were. I didn't know that they had passed. How long were you in the hospital for? I was in the hospital about six months. I had about 30 surgeries during that time. Just taking skin from other parts of my body to put graphs on the parts of my body that I needed. I got lucky like at one point they thought they were going to amputate my foot. I think the hardest thing being in there was I was so used to self-medicating that none of the pain medication worked. So I'd wake up mid-surgery just not knowing what's going on, swinging on doctors because I thought I was being attacked but they just couldn't get my medicine right. So whatever the sedatives they would give you it just didn't really, it didn't last or didn't work. Yeah, yeah. You had to learn how to walk again. Yeah. Because your feet had been so badly burned. My feet and legs, well they weren't used for six months, right? So 30-something surgeries later. The doctors that said right off the jump, they're like, you might not play drums again, you might not be able to walk or run like you did before. You're going to be on these 20 medications for the rest of your life. The amount of trauma you went through, it was a little scary at first, right? And I was on all these medications and honestly they were making me feel awful. I didn't feel like myself so I just stopped taking everything. Who would do all my therapy. I started drumming immediately. Even though I didn't have feeling in my right hand, I had to go get a couple surgeries to fix my nerves in my hand. But every day life was really hard for me. My friend, Armand, would come walk with me and if I saw a plane come in the sky, I would hide. I didn't want to be anywhere near it and I just kept waiting for planes to fall out of the sky. Planes just equal death to me. It was difficult, you know, for a little bit until I kind of got my bearings. I wouldn't stay at hotels near airports. The smell would just hurt me. - The smell of jet fuel? - Yeah, I'd swallowed so much jet fuel that I was burping up jet fuel for weeks in the hospital. So there was just certain things I really, it took me a minute to get over. Leaving the house was just hard. I was just waiting for something to happen. And it just got better day by day. Is it through therapy gets better? Is it through just time and talking about it with others? I think spending time with my kids, I think doing normal things, like taking them to school, also facing like what I was afraid of, like stop avoiding airports. Who cares if there's a plane above you? Just getting my mindset different. At the time, I was like Chris and Chey are gone. These two pilots passed away. I was in a burn center for six months. Life was hard. I remember my post-traumatic doctor had said something, like people go through life just expecting everything to be perfect. And not everything's going to be perfect. Sometimes you're going to, you're going to face adversity, right? But these things either destroy you or define you. And there was no way I was going to let it destroy me. What's grief-like for you? It's sort of like a wound that almost never heals, right? It's just like, you can get reopened. And I can go through days, weeks, months, not thinking about it, and then something, right? Something will remind you, just talking about it, help you? Yeah, definitely. Everything happens for a reason, and I do believe that. I wrestle with that. Yeah, me too. I mean, I can never tell one of my friends that loses someone, like, "Oh, it's like what God wanted." I don't believe that, but my mom passed away. I was brought up going to Catholic school, and I believed in God, and I'm like, "How can this happen?" I don't understand this, but I just got to have faith that I'm here for a reason, and make the most of it. My kids were so important to me. When I got home, and once I was out of the hospital, that was like. That was my rock. That gave me everything I needed, just waking up and being as strong as I possibly could for them, and enjoying every minute I had with them. Kids are my superpower. After my accident, I had a lot of survivors go with my two friends and the pilots that passed. It was killing me, you know? That you had survived in the head. Yeah. What happened to Adam? No one really knows, and was suffering, because he wasn't waking up with kids. He just went back to work. You both had the shared traumatic experience. Did you talk about it with each other? Yeah. That was all I had. He was the guy you talked to. Yeah, he was the only person, and he was passed out when it all happened. I don't know if he hit his head or what happened, but it even helped just chop it up and hear his side of the story. I remember you jumping out, and you were on fire, and I was whatever call in the police. And just remembering boarding the plane, and how we felt boarding the plane, and just talking, I didn't have really anyone else I could explain that to. You know, I did my best with my post-traumatic doctor who was awesome, and even my Burnt Center doctor, the friends of family were awesome, but it was kind of hard to have anyone be able to relate to me. And A.M. was sober for, I think, 15 years now, and he was just so inspiring and so motivating, and I'd never doubted his sobriety. He was just so strong. I had spoken to him a lot, like, right before he had passed. I was back in Blink, and we were touring. I remember him riding me and saying, like, man, you don't care about me anymore, whatever, I'm like, no, I can't wait to play more shows with you. You kidding me? And I get to New York, supposed to meet up the next day. I see my manager, and he's like, do we can't get ahold of Adam, something's up with him. The following day, I'm in a session, working on, like, my album, and my drum tech comes and brings a computer, and he's just like, it's, it's like a TMZ article, and it's like DJM passes away. And I'm, I was like, it was, like, the worst, I don't know, movie I was trapped in, you know, I couldn't believe it. We can stop if you want. These are the wounds that I'm talking about. He had an overdose. Yeah, and I'll think any of us know if it was, you know, an intentional overdose or an accidental, but, yeah. And he was the person you talked to. Yeah, we could relate to one another. And one of the last things he had said, which I always run back in my head is, it was through text, and he's like, man, honestly, I just feel like doing a bunch of drugs and saying it. And I was like, you know, no. Once again, I thought he was bulletproof. I was like, thought he was saying that, but I saw somewhere you said you sometimes felt like you were in a final destination film. How so? Just everyone dying around me, you know, from like, the plane crash and then AM passes, and now I'm the only survivor. And I was on tour around that time, so I would hide in my bus, and I would only come out to play and just go back in the bus. My kids weren't with me, so it was just hard. Yeah. You didn't fly again on a plane for years. Yeah, almost 20 years. You would take a boat to a ship to get a Europe. Yeah, I take the bus to New York, then take the Queen Mary from New York to London. So I traveled like that for a long time. Like a tour bus to New York. A tour bus to New York, yeah, and then hop on the Queen Mary. That was how my kids and I traveled for years. Originally, my documentary, the ending, the producer, his wish was, can we just show you on a plane at the end of the documentary? And at the time, I was just so against it, and I physically couldn't do it. And there was no ending to my documentary. There was no shiny lining. This person was in a plane crash. She lost his best friends. His other best friend died a year later from a drug overdose. He lost his mom at a young age. And to me, it was like the end of the story is he's still afraid of flying and this still has power over him. And I'm like, that's not going to come out like that. I didn't tell anyone, but my goal was to change the ending of the documentary. I didn't know how or when. That was a motivating factor for you. Yeah, deep down, but I didn't share with anyone. I was just like, I can't, this cannot have power over me. And my kids, my kids aren't flying. You know, I started kind of taking care of myself more and more. I started running, started boxing, started doing a lot of things, back to a lot of things that I was doing when I was younger. And then I was getting a massage one day in this massage therapist that always works on me. She's like, you know, try. I can give you as many massages as you want, but like you have a lot of trauma. You should do breath work because trauma, if it just lives inside your body, it turns into disease. And you need to try to figure it out. I finally give in and I did it. And I really went into it so guarded, sort of like I'm going to do the session, but I'm going to have my guard up the whole time. 10 minutes into breath work, I'm bawling. Wow. What is it? You basically are doing breath work at this pace where your body, you feel like you're high. And you also have no control or at least I didn't of your emotions. And some people are laughing hysterically, some people are bawling their eyes out. And I let go, I think of like childhood trauma, definitely trauma from my accident. Also felt like I connected with my mom, Jay and Chris and I am all through breathing. Yeah, I did it about six times. And around the same time I told my wife who we were in like a really new relationship, but I had known my wife for years or best friends for a long time. And I said, if there's ever like a place you want to take me in, it involves flying. Just tell me the night before and I'm going to try to go. That's big. Yeah, I just like threw it out there. Because she would always say, "Oh, there's so many things I want to do with you." And I'm like, "I feel like I'm so trapped." So I told her that scheduled breath work that night, she tells me later, later we're going to do a really small flight tomorrow. lights easier than I ever thought. All these things that I thought would be the baggage I'd carry with me on that flight didn't exist. It was just felt so good to face my fear and put it to rest, you know? And have you flown since? Yeah, I flown probably probably close to 50 times now. Wow. Yeah, yeah. I'm not into mediums. I'm not into psychics. Anything like that, breath work, I won 1,000% believe in. It wasn't guided. I didn't tell the person what my goals were before doing breath work. And those things just happened and they were extremely therapeutic for me. And I felt like that was my best way of dealing with grief or any trauma that I've experienced. Without breath work, I don't think I would have gotten a plane. I feel like it helped me glue a couple things together. Does music help you? I do think writing songs about it, anything you can write a song about or tell a story about it, I think is extremely therapeutic. Is there something you've learned in your grief that would be helpful for others? I just think living in their honor is important, you know, in honoring them correctly, it means a lot to me. I have this list of unfortunately people who have passed that I pray every time, you know, you pray to them. Before shows or before I fly, I feel like it gives me a lot of strength. I sometimes ask people on this podcast to say the names of the people you've lost. And you've talked about this list, could you say it out loud? My mom, Little Chris, Che, DJ Am, Triggs, Johnson Crater, Robert Ortiz, Taylor Hawkins, Robert Kardashian, and Brent Barker. Thank you so much. Thank you. That documentary Travis talks about is called Travis Barker, Louder Than Fear, and you can watch it on Hulu and Disney Plus. If you have thoughts you'd like to share about my conversation with Travis, you can leave us a comment on our grief community page, cnn.com/all there is. And if there's something you've learned in grief, it would be helpful for others we'd love to hear from you. Leave us a voicemail at 404-827-1805. On Thursday, August 27th, I hope you join me at 9.15 p.m. from a streaming show All There Is Live. It's on every other Thursday. You can see new episodes live on cnn.com/all there is. And it's free on our community page for a week after. Thanks so much for listening. We'll have an all-new podcast episode out on September 3rd. Grief can feel so lonely, but talking about it helps, and hearing from others does as well. It's a reminder that none of us is alone in our grief.