Travis Morse

2023 Trip back home to Bennington Vermont first time in over 10 years. Heres the pictures from the trip.

Jesus knew I had free will and He couldn’t force me to stop my distractions. He wasn’t going to step in and knock the joint or bubble pipe out of my hand. He wasn’t going to make it so girls didn’t like me. He let me pursue my path of self-destruction because it was only by reaching the bottom of my life that I would be able to rebuild the crumbling foundation of my childhood with a new one. Jesus showed me unconditional love throughout my early decades of adulthood, but I couldn’t recognize it. To help me see His pure love working in my life He sent me a living, breathing example of His undemanding love. He gave me my son. My son, Tanner was a physical example of Jesus’ love. Right under my nose was what I longed for my whole life. Someone whose love was unconditional and unwavering when I couldn’t love myself. Someone whose smile made me feel that regardless of who I was, it was enough to be loved by somebody.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

After a year of working at New Beginnings and living at the sober house, Mary hired me to manage the residents of Broadway House. This was a challenge because some of the residents at the home were clever addicts who knew how to work the system to graduate. The first was a young addict named Lucas. He was a he**in addict who managed to graduate into the sober home. One Saturday night I saw him enter the home as he returned from work. As we talked I noticed his eyelids were drooping. He was sitting on the edge of his bed just staring. “Lucas, are you on som**hing?” He sat droopy-eyed and denied it. His head dropped to one side and he fell back onto his bed. I rushed over to check his vitals and he wasn’t breathing. This was the first overdose I ever experienced and I ran to the cabinet to get Narcan (Naloxone Hydrochloride). We kept Narcan nasal spray for times like this. One shot of the spray usually revived someone who overdosed on opiates. I brought back the Narcan, but was so nervous I accidentally squeezed it and it shot the life-saving mist into the air. Time was running out and I got another spray from the cabinet and squeezed it into his nose. But the Narcan spray did nothing. He still wasn’t breathing!*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

The next day I made some calls to rehab facilities, but each had a long waiting list. I was at the end of the list of recommended rehab programs. There was one more place for me to try called New Beginnings Recovery Center. When I called I reached Mary Brewer. I told her about the miserable story of my life and how I needed to get into a rehab program. She empathized, then apologized that all the beds in her center were taken. She offered to add me to the tall stack of applications on her desk. Despondent, I sat on the phone speechless and silently prayed, “Jesus help me.” Then, instead of hanging up Mary blurted out the question, “How fast can you get here?!” Excitedly I told her where I was and the public transportation I’d need to take to reach her center. She said, “Well, get here as fast as you can!”*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

At the hearing were Jefferson County judge Joan Woodford and a probation officer who was all too familiar with my track record of ignoring the requirements of my previous probations. If this officer had her way, my ninety-day sentence would be extended indefinitely.

Judge Woodford asked why she should shorten my stay.

“Your honor,” I started, “I’m ready to do things differently. I’m motivated to be a better man. The fire that burned my legs took away everything in my life, my home, and all my stuff. This is a great chance for me to start a new life and keep my promise to Jesus.”

“JESUS?! Your Honor!” the probation officer shouted as she jumped out of her seat.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

I sat in Adams County Sheriff’s Detention Facility for thirty days, forgotten by the people who needed to fill out the paperwork to release me back to Jefferson County Jail. Did Jesus have a hand in delaying my release? Looking back, I believe He did because while I sat in jail doing nothing I discovered an inspiring book called The Shack. This book spoke to me deeply. The main character, Mack, lived with a childhood hurt because of an alcoholic father. The woman Mack married was named Nan, just like my grandmother. In the story, during a camping trip, Mack’s daughter is abducted and brutally killed by someone. Mack went into a deep depression. Later in the story, Mack happened upon a shack in the middle of the woods where he met God in the form of an old black woman. They spent the weekend discussing love, hurt, and just punishment for the man who killed Mack’s daughter. In the end, Mack realized the overwhelming compassion and understanding of God and how everyone, no matter how broken they are, can experience God’s love and forgiveness. The book helped me realize that even with all my failings, there was a place in God’s heart for me.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On FIre"

The morning I left the hospital was chilly and my burnt skin was particularly sensitive to the cool temperatures. I needed to get some pants and a coat. With my brain and pocket full of m**h I slipped back into my old life. I walked into a Walmart to boldly shoplift some supplies. I limped into the store with bandaged legs I caught the attention of store security. Trying to leave the store with new pants and a jacket, they stopped me and called the police. A female police officer responded to their call. She ran my name and found I had an outstanding arrest warrant. She also found the m**h. I had enough to be charged with felony possession. Noticing my misery from the leg and feet burns, she made no mention of finding the m**h in her report. I was still going to jail, but I’d only be facing months for a shoplifting charge rather than years for felony possession of drugs.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

I must have fallen asleep because at some point I was startled awake by a burning sensation on my leg. I woke to find the bottom of my covers on fire and the whole trailer engulfed in flames. The smell of burning flesh and the toxic fumes of the melting rubber walls filled my nose. I was trapped in the small sleeping compartment on the opposite side of the camper’s door. The smoke from the burning rubber made it difficult to see or breathe.
I’m going to die! I wanted my screwed-up life to end and God is granting me my wish! But this isn’t the way I wanted it to end! Jesus, get me out of here! If you save me I promise I will turn my life around!*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

At the time, a bicycle and public transportation were how I got around. I did most of my shopping at that department store because it was within walking distance and had all the essentials I needed: hardware, clothes, medicine, groceries, and most importantly, poor security. I easily stole items from there and walked out undetected. If I needed a lot, I’d wait until it was busy, fill a shopping cart, and walk out the front door. I’d keep walking until I made my way back to the camper. Sometimes store employees caught me leaving and I’d abandon my cart, but many times I succeeded. Eventually, the collection of empty shopping carts outside my camper grew to a half-dozen.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

The camper was luxurious compared to the place I had slept in a year earlier – a large, wheelchair-accessible portable toilet in a Denver public park. Warmed with citronella candles, I used duct tape to block the toilet’s vents at night. The tape kept out most of the cold night air, yet kept in all of the stench. The crisp lemony scent of the candles did nothing to mask the putrid smell that was a brutal reminder of the direction in which I’d taken my life. *
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On FIre"

Though the camper was an upgrade from living in the toilet, its thin metal walls with poorly constructed seams did only a slightly better job of insulating me from the Colorado winters. During the coldest nights, a borrowed space heater fought the frigid air entering through gaps in the walls to keep the place barely above freezing. It was after enduring some bitterly cold nights that I decided to seal the camper’s leaky joints. My plan for sealing the camper was to get gallon buckets of black rubberized paste at a local department store to cover the camper walls. Smearing gallons of rubber onto the camper took some effort, but m**h helped manufacture the energy to complete the weeks of work. When finished, the black rubber-coated camper resembled som**hing owned by Darth Vader. My m**hed-up mind thought it looked cool.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

Each hit was an adventure. Too much heat from the lighter and the glass end would explode, sending glass shards and molten m**h into my face. Despite the danger, however, that Friday morning I took the chance to extend my drug-induced awakened state that had lasted an entire month, interrupted by the occasional cat naps forced on me by exhaustion. I was awake so much over the last four weeks that my son, Tanner slept in my bed more than I did. I sat at the little wooden table, lit up another bubble of m**h, and enjoyed the euphoric apathy m**h provided. As the m**h constricted my blood vessels I felt a chill. I turned on the space heater and leaned back to enjoy the high that crept into my brain. Inside the dimly lit camper, the last bit of natural light from the windows was replaced by the fluorescent orange glow from the heater’s coils.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

She walked over to a pool table to knock some balls around. Most of my buddies’ eyes were on her as she bent over the pool table to coax balls into the pockets. Her style was amateurish, but her form was excellent. I walked over to the table to offer we play a game.

“Hi, I’m Travis.”
“Valerie,” she said as she concentrated on her next shot rather than me.
“Can I play with you?” I asked, meaning it in every sense of the word.
“Sure,” she said, holding up her empty beer can, “As long as you keep buyin’.”

We played a little pool and drank a lot. When we were both sufficiently numb, I suggested we go to my place in the garage. Together we stumbled to the building next door.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

After about the third or fourth bar, one of the more wild girls from the party met up with a friend of hers. He was a former boxer who’d come to join the party. He and I tried to carry on a conversation but it was so noisy we went outside where we could hear each other better. His Cadillac was parked right in front. He suggested we sit in it instead of standing on the sidewalk. Immediately he asked, “Do you wanna do a bump?” I knew it was an invitation to snort co***ne. The ex-boxer and I did the first hit of co***ne and my world went blank. It resumed hours later and a hundred miles away when I woke up alone lying on the hard ground beneath a sign that read “Welcome To Pueblo, Colorado.” *
*Excerpt "Setting Myself On Fire"

I took a nap on the seven-hour bus trip from Cleveland to South Bend, Indiana. I woke as we entered the station and had just enough time for a cigarette and a joint before we were off to Chicago, Illinois. That is where Chicken Lady got on. She was a feisty woman with inner-city anger and a large cloth shopping bag filled with buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken. I admit, when we first got on the bus her fried chicken smelled like a perfect recipe for my munchies. I was pretty stoned by then. Unfortunately the scent of that chicken, and the noises she made while eating it, quickly got old. When we got to Des Moines, the second stop in Iowa, the bus driver was replaced by another. I think he was already scheduled to end his shift, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he called ahead and asked Greyhound to get him out of this bus because of the smell of the fried chicken and the sound of the bones clunking in the buckets.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On FIre"

Around 5 AM my mom drove me to the bus stop in Bennington which was nothing more than a row of covered benches. The sun was just rising as we sat there on that chilly December morning waiting. My mom repeatedly reminded me that she hoped I would be safe and happy in Colorado. Each time she spoke her voice cracked and her lip quivered more. I understood her sadness. Soon both of her sons would be living far away from her. I tried to act stoic, but I also felt sad about leaving a woman who loved me so dearly. My eyes welled up with tears as the bus approached. I picked up my backpack and two suitcases and she hugged me hard, not wanting to let me leave, but we both knew it was the best thing for me to do.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

One night I ingested mushrooms after leaving Murphy’s. I don’t know where I was heading and as high as I was, I probably didn’t care. I stopped at an intersection and waited for the light to change. After sitting there for what felt like just a moment, flashing lights appeared in my rearview mirror. I noticed the traffic light was green and drove through the intersection and pulled over to the curb. The officer said, “I pulled you over because you didn’t proceed when the light turned green, twice. Please show me your license, registration, and proof of insurance.” By my slow clumsy movements, he could tell I was either high on som**hing or having a stroke. He asked me to step out of the car. I felt off-balanced. Other officers showed up and the car was searched. They found lots of drugs and I was taken into custody to go before a judge the next day.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

Because of my crime, I lost my job, my income, my apartment, and my girlfriend. At twenty years old I was back with my parents and living the disappointing life I imagined I deserved. Word spread that I was out of a job, though fortunately no one knew the reason why. My friends Nick and Ray got me a job at Rent-A-Center. After work, I started hanging out at a popular bar owned by my old football coach. He let me make some extra money helping the bartenders keep the bar stocked. That place became my social life. For a broken young man who was at the mercy of his abusive inner voices, cozying up with this bar crowd was another in a series of very bad ideas.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

Halfway through the concert, Toby walked to the front of the stage to address the audience. The house lights brightened and he talked about Jesus’ unconditional love and the promises He makes to anyone who commits to being His follower. Toby explained that commitment required a conscious decision to welcome Jesus into our hearts. Knowing how Jesus influenced Joshua’s family, Toby’s words connected with me. He invited anyone who was interested to come up to the stage and make that commitment to accept Jesus into their hearts. I turned to look at Joshua’s family. They were all looking at me, wondering how I’d react to Toby’s invitation. My smile told them I was thinking of going to Toby and they encouraged me. I joined the line of people waiting to reach the stage.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

Every Sunday they drove to a different church to discover new uplifting expressions of Christian worship. Afterward, they selected a restaurant for lunch where they enjoyed a meal and talked about their experiences. Tagging along with them on Sundays exposed me to a spiritual side of life I didn’t know existed. I learned about Jesus, the loving Son of God, and how He positively influenced people’s lives. I watched how they treated Jesus as a living entity in their lives. Whenever they arrived anywhere, they prayed to Him before they exited their car. Together they said a prayer inspired by Ephesians chapter 6 verse 11, “Put on the Full Armor of God, Belt of Truth, Breastplate of Righteousness, Shield of Faith, Sword of the Spirit, Shoes of the Gospel and Helmet of Salvation.” It was their way of asking Jesus to watch over them throughout their day.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

It was my eighth Christmas when my mom, Tyler, and I were in the middle of unwrapping Santa’s gifts when we heard an unexpected pounding on the front door. Thinking it might be Nanny or a cousin, I ran over and opened the door as excitedly as opening another present. I saw a smiling man who looked somewhat familiar standing there struggling to hold a monster television. I smelled the alcohol on his breath as he greeted me with, “Merry Christmas, buddy!” In that brief moment, I forgot about father’s absence and wanted to believe that giving me this television was his way of saying he loved me. It was two weeks later while watching the Broncos play the Kansas City Chiefs, that I heard another unexpected knock on our trailer door. When my mom opened it there stood two young men. “Hi! We’re Nick and Ray from Rent-A-Center.” They informed my mom that my father had visited their store on Christmas Eve to rent a television for a week. It was now going on two weeks and with it not being returned, they looked up the address he gave and came to repossess it.*
*Excerpt from "Setting Myself On Fire"

Nan prepared a culinary feast each Christmas Eve. With a steady stream of Christmas songs playing in the background, she assembled seemingly endless trays of appetizers, meats, cheeses, and desserts for us to enjoy. Her menus varied from year to year, but one traditional dish she always served was her “little smokies” – marinated mini-hotdogs in a smoky-sweet sauce. We used toothpicks to nab them from the bowl. They were my favorite. She’d warn me as she brought out the family-sized bowl, “Now, Travis, save some for the rest of the family!” Then she’d laugh her special laugh. I couldn’t eat them fast enough.*

* Excerpt from the book "Setting Myself On Fire"