All There Is with Anderson Cooper - Travis Barker: The ‘Wound That Almost Never Heals’

Episode Date: August 20, 2026

Travis Barker’s mom, Gloria, died the day before he started high school. In 2008, the Blink-182 drummer survived a plane crash that killed four people, including two of his closest friends. The only other survivor, friend and collaborator Adam “DJ AM” Goldstein, died less than a year later from an overdose. Travis talks with Anderson Cooper about facing fear and grief after decades of “muscling through” his hurt and how he carries the people he’s lost with him. For more of “All There Is with Anderson Cooper” visit cnn.com/allthereis. Host: Anderson Cooper Showrunner: Haley Thomas Producers: Emily Williams and Kyra Dahring Video Editor: Eric Zembrzuski Technical Director: Dan Dzula Bookers: Kerry Rubin and Kari Pricher Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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 Shogren syndrome, which is an autoimmune disease in 1990. Travis was just about to start high school when she died. It was Gloria who 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 them 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 burned center and 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. I 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?

Is it 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 until what I was like 13, it's kind of a mystery. I don't remember a lot of it. Me neither.

Yeah, you don't either? Yeah. We also didn't have like a video camera growing up or anything 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 and 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? No, 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 die? No.

I had no clue that that was going to happen. No one had talked about her. No, I mean, 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 kids. So long story, I sure, yeah, I had no idea. And I had never experienced loss before that.

Were you there when she died? Right before. Right before. And I remember they were like, you got to get down there. And luckily I got down there, the day she passed and had a chance for her to say, like, pursue 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, guide you. You feel that. You feel your mom in that way. 1,000%. 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, I 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, I 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, joined jazz band, joined orchestra, just head down, no one to talk to but played the drums. You went to school the day after your mom died?

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.

Yeah, same. But you 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 happened, except to pick up where I left off and keep playing drums, you know? Yeah.

So that's what I did. That was like your anchor. Yeah, that's all I focused on, like head down, played the drums. Your manager, Lauren, said every time he hits a drum, there's a part of his anger that comes out. Do you think that's true? Maybe it's not anger. Maybe it's like his hurt, you know, like what he's, what I've been through. And it's therapeutic for me.

You said his hurt. My hurt. Okay. Yeah, my hurt. I thought maybe you meant 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. And 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 pushed 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, lived 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 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. And I don't want to worry about tomorrow too much. Also, I 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 Vietnam, rode a Harley his whole life, and worked at a steel mill. So he's like, you're going to do something very similar to me. You're going to work 60 hours a week and pay rent, or 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 friends band Feeble, 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, you know? 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 music. That's what keeps me happy. That's what feeds my soul is playing music. And I just completely threw myself into that. You said you feel your mom. I feel like? Well, two things. I think if she was alive,

I don't know if I would have tried as 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. 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 in.

Exactly, yeah. Learned everything in 45 minutes. Played the next three shows afterwards. They're like, we've never sounded better. We had so much fun playing with you. 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 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, didn't he? 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 calm her down. And I remember being scared because I saw my mom scared, right?

And then the first band I was in that started touring a lot was the aquabats. And we would fly, and I would be so terrified. The only thing I could connect the dots to is my mom. I didn't like anything about it. I didn't like being out of control and the way it made me feel. then in blink sometimes we were flying three times a day

three shows we're 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 gonna play the best show I'm gonna do this I'm gonna do that

you know I would just if you hate flying flying three times a day 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 an assistant of yours as well, and Chee was security, right?

Yeah, Little Chris was basically my brother that I met 19 years into my life, you know? And Chee was like, yeah, security, who was like a really good friend, And we met AM in South Carolina. AM is DJ AM, Adam Goldstein. Yeah, Adam Goldstein. So we go there, we play 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 were you, Chris, Chay, 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, and I said, man, I have a bad feeling, you know? He's like, same, I don't like this plane. And I call my dad, I said, I don't know, pal.

It's just weird. I have the weirdest feeling. And then, yeah, I just have a blunt in the car, take a couple of Ike it in. I just get on the plane. That's how I had forced myself on planes at that point, you know. During takeoff, our landing gear, the tires popped,

plane skidded across the runway, caught fire, and then attempted to take off. You were in the emergency exit seat? Yeah, it was me, A.M. Chris and Che. The plane 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 phone ambulance. Do you remember that? 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 chat, Chris. 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 them 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. And AIM was behind me just like screaming. And then I heard someone in a car just say, stop, drop, and roll. Like, what we're taught when we're kids, but I never thought. I didn't even think of it. I was just stripping all my clothes off

because I was on fire and then stop, drop and roll. The last thing that was the worst on me was my socks were filled with jet fuel. And 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 have earned over 65, 70-something percent of your body.

70% of my body was burnt. Burn injuries are excruciatingly awful and painful. Yeah, 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 ever 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 everything out and clean you very thoroughly. I remember that, but I couldn't remember. I was asking where Chay and 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. 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 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, 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 it.

and everything, would do all my therapy. I started drumming immediately, even though I didn't have a feeling in my right hand, I had to go get a couple surgeries to fix my nerves in my hand. But everyday life was really hard for me. My friend Armin would come walk with me and if I saw a plane come in the sky, I would like hide.

I didn't wanna 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 irk 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. Like, 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, it was like, Chris and Che 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 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 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 to help you?

Yeah, definitely. Everything happens for a reason, and I... Do you believe that? I wrestle with that. Yeah, me too. I mean, I don't like... I can never tell, like, one of my friends that loses someone, like, oh, it's like what God wanted. I don't believe that. But when my mom passed away, I was brought up, going to, like, 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...

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. Like 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' guilt with my two friends and the pilots that passed. It was killing me, you know?

That you had survived and they hadn't. Yeah. What happened to Adam? No one really knows. Am was suffering because he wasn't waking up with kids. He just went back to work. You both had this 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. Like, I remember you jumping out, You were on fire and I was whatever calling 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 burn center doctor, my friends and 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 never doubted his sobriety. He was just so strong. I had spoken to him a lot 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.

And 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, dude, we can't get a hold 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, like, it's like a TMZ article, and it's, like, DJAM passes away. And I was like, it was, like, the worst, I don't know, movie I was trapped in. You know, I couldn't believe it from... We can stop if you want. These are the wounds that I'm talking about.

He had an overdose. Yeah, I don't 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. It was through text and he's like, man, honestly, I just feel like doing a bunch of drugs and saying it, I was like, you know, no.

Once again, I thought he was bulletproof. I 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... It's 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?

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 I physically couldn't do it. it and there was no ending to my documentary. There was no shiny lining. This person was in a plane crash. He 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,

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 and this massage therapist that always works on me, she's like, you know, Trave, I can give you as many massages as you want, but like you have a lot of trauma. You should do breathwork because trauma,

if it just lives inside your body, it turns into disease, and you need to try to figure it out. I finally gave 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. And 10 minutes into breathwork, I'm bawling. Wow. What is it?

You basically are doing breathwork 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,

Che and Chris, in a.m. 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. We were 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 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 breathwork that night. She tells me later, we're going to do a really small flight tomorrow. The flight's easier than I ever thought. Like all these things that I had thought would be the baggage I'd carry with me on that flight didn't exist. It was just felt so. so good to face my fear and put it to rest, you know? And have you flown since? Yeah, I've flown probably, probably close to 50 times now.

Wow. Yeah. Yeah. I'm not into mediums. I'm not into psychics, anything like that. Breathwork, I 1,000% believe in. It wasn't guided. I didn't tell the person what my goals were before doing breathwork,

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 breathwork, I don't think I would have got on 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, and honoring them correctly means a lot to me. I have this list of, unfortunately, people 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, John Secreter, Robert Ortiz, Taylor Hawkins, Robert Kardashian, and Brant Barker. Thank you so much. Thank you. That documentary Travis talked 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, cnen.com slash 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, 8278105. On Thursday, August 27th, I hope you join me at 915 p.m. for my streaming show, All There is Live. It's on every other Thursday. You can see new episodes live on CNN.com slash 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.