Travis decided he wanted to partner with Taylor to create the clothing line. At 2:30 A.M. one morning in 2006, Travis sent an enthusiastic e-mail to Taylor.
“I am just gonna give it to you straight. We have been talking about getting rich for a long time together,” he wrote. “I think CAFGSS is a million dollar idea, truly I do—a fun one at that. It’s one of those unique ones that doesn’t come around every day. I think about it all the time.”
Soon the pair began building the business—creating logos and developing a Web site. Because Taylor was busy with school, Travis volunteered to lead many of their projects. With his undemanding schedule with Prepaid Legal, Travis had a lot of time to devote to CAFGSS. At their peak, the company sold about five hundred shirts a month on the Internet.
“This is what I am good at,” Travis told Taylor. “I feel like a caged lion, just ready for the gate to open so I can go tear something to shreds.”
CHAPTER 6
The 1980s rock tune “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” by Def Leppard, reverberated in the background as Eddie Snell burst into the conference room. He was barefoot—dressed in cutoff jean shorts, a black sleeveless T-shirt, and oversize black sunglasses. His curly, dark mullet was swept into a ponytail.
“Woo,” he grunted. “I friggin’ love that song!”
Eddie kicked his leg high and flexed his biceps, showing off his muscles to the crowd of professionally dressed Prepaid Legal representatives.
“It’s a plum, pleasing pleasure to be with you again,” he said in a Southern accent.
Eddie glanced around the podium, searching for his notes.
“All right, where’s my crap,” he exclaimed.
“Eddie Snell from Alabama” was Travis’s alter ego—a lazy, crude, inappropriate salesperson he created as a humorous way to show associates how not to behave. Eddie insulted customers, dressed inappropriately, and made bad jokes. Travis’s redneck persona made appearances at Prepaid Legal seminars, giving presentations like “Ten Poor Commitments,” a play on the “Ten Core Commitments” for Prepaid Legal associates that were fundamentals of success.
Eddie Snell was a hit at conferences. When Travis leaped out on stage in his mullet wig, shaking his pelvis, the audience was in hysterics.
For many who knew Travis professionally, his alter ego was an entirely unexpected side to his personality. Yet for close friends, this was simply Travis being Travis.
Travis, who jokingly called himself the T-Dogg, had a saucy sense of humor. Whether he was singing, making jokes, or dressing up as Eddie Snell, he loved making people laugh.
“Travis was hilarious,” his sister Hillary Wilcox said. “There’s not one person he couldn’t bring a smile to your face.”
Often his jokes were sarcastically cocky, as he made quips about his own physique. Fit and trim with large, muscular biceps, Travis was proud of his build. If he had an opportunity to show off his muscles, he took it. Rolling up his sleeves, he would say things like, “This is my ridiculously large arm, also known as a shameless ploy.”
“He loved his biceps,” Hillary said. “He was always flexing them, especially if you were a girl.”
On one occasion, Travis and Taylor Searle were going out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant with their dates. Walking up to the hostess Travis asked, “How long is the wait?”
“About forty-five minutes,” the hostess said.
Travis smirked and pulled up his sleeve. “How about now,” he said, flexing his biceps. “You can touch it.”
The hostess giggled. Travis turned his behind toward her and pointed to his butt. “You can touch that, too.”
“I think the hostess maybe touched his butt for a second,” Taylor recalled with a smile. “We still had to wait at least thirty minutes.”
On another night the two men were hanging out when Travis challenged his friend to a dare. He wanted to select two random girls in each other’s phones and send a text message, “I want to get you pregnant.”
Taylor laughed. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”
Travis took the challenge upon himself, selecting two phone numbers in his own phone and sending the raunchy message. One of the women replied: “Funny, funny.”
“He had a sick sense of humor,” Taylor recalled. “He was just that way with the irreverent wit.”
But despite his irreverence, Travis’s flirty personality was playful, not lecherous. He found it hilarious to act the part of a lothario, but only in a teasing manner, said Sky Hughes.
“He was super flirtatious, but it was just his way of being funny,” she said. “He wasn’t Mr. Smooth, he was Mr. Hilarious.”
Part of Travis’s zany charm was his affinity for singing. Friends called him a “walking musical” because he so often spontaneously sang. The soundtrack to his life was upbeat with a catchy hook.
“He would always bust out in song. I’d sometimes catch him looking in the mirror singing a song or talking to himself,” Hillary recalled. “But I think he did it on purpose because he knew someone was going to walk by and he wanted to make us laugh.”
Travis’s musical taste was diverse—he enjoyed adult contemporary classics by Neil Diamond as well as the punk rock tunes by the Ramones. He listened to obscure rock, hip-hop, punk, and ska bands from the 1990s. When Travis heard something that reminded him of a song he knew, he couldn’t help but sing the lyrics.
“Every time I saw him, he would flash his big smile and sing his salutation,” recalled Michelle Lowery. “The best thing was checking my voice mail after he had called. Because without fail there would be a two- to three–minute-long message of him singing. He would go on and on and on, loud and as dramatically as possible—with a little vibrato and a few crescendos for effect.”
Another aspect of Travis’s silly side was the sayings he often used that became known among his friends as “Travis-isms.”
“We knew that he said some weird things, but he was known for them,” recalled a former girlfriend Lisa Andrews.
If he did something goofy that caused someone to roll their eyes, he’d say, “If you died, you’d miss it.”
His biggest Travis-ism came every time he was asked, “How are you doing?” Travis would always respond with, “If I was any better I’d be twins.”
“He’d always have the biggest, goofiest smile on when he said it, and we’d laugh,” recalled his friend Chad Perkins. “Then, after hearing this same dang response for years, it finally dawned on me that I have no freaking clue what that means.”
So one day Chad asked.
Travis started laughing. “I don’t know either!” he said.
“He heard it once from someone and he thought it sounded funny and positive, so it stuck and Travis made it his own,” Chad recalled. “Travis’s influence is still with me, encouraging me to be fuller of life like he was.”
* * *
“I’m a simple man, really. Smart, successful, smashing good looks, a real suitor,” Travis wrote on his MySpace page. “I love nature, helping the homeless, and cooking with my grandmother just to create memories.”
In 2006, Travis signed up for MySpace, a social networking site where users posted photos, blog entries, and videos to keep in contact with their friends. At that time social networking had become an integral part of the Internet mainstream and MySpace was the most visited social networking site in the world. In June 2006, it surpassed Google as the most visited Web site in the United States.
On his MySpace page, Travis posted funny photos and videos of himself dressed as Eddie Snell. But it was his description of himself in the “About Me” section that lent the true glimpse into his unique brand of humor.
“Do I work out you ask? Well I’d like to be modest, but can you say, ‘tri-athlete.’ And if you can’t say that well simply say, ‘16 ½ inch biceps,’” he wrote. “If I look familiar you are probably an avid reader of GQ or Men’s Health.”
Travis listed his interests as attending church, teaching English to foreign ch
ildren, and gourmet cooking. He bragged about a list of fictitious accomplishments.
“You might say to yourself, ‘Yes but what are Travis’s talents?’ Well, if I must answer: poetry, playing the Spanish Guitar (or what I like to call the strings of love) and understanding more than just people’s voices, but understanding people’s hearts,” he wrote. “At least that’s what Maya Angelou said at the awards ceremony when I was nominated for my first Nobel Peace prize.”
On his profile, Travis had ninety friends who kept in contact with him through short messages. Each year his friends posted birthday wishes and regular comments, noting that they were thinking about him.
“Just want to say, ‘Hi,’ since I haven’t talked to you forever,” one friend wrote.
“I have to tell you, every time I see a Prepaid Legal sticker I think of you,” wrote another.
* * *
In June 2006, housing prices had ballooned to their peak. Nationwide, home costs were overvalued by about 10 percent compared to income. The real estate bubble had been inflated to its bursting point.
In two short years Travis’s house value had climbed by more than 30 percent. In August, he refinanced his home for $336,000, pulling out more than $75,000 in equity. He used the money to finish furnishing his house, make some investments, travel, and fund his lifestyle.
With his extra money and his newfound spare time, Travis was able to pursue many of his goals and interests.
One of those interests was politics. A staunch Republican, Travis often sported a PROUD TO BE A REPUBLICAN baseball cap and planned on one day running for office.
In the fall of 2006, Arizona was holding a state election. That year Travis campaigned for many political issues, including one he felt strongly about—Proposition 204, which would mandate humane treatment of animals before slaughter. The proposal created misdemeanor fines and penalties for confining a pregnant pig or calf for the majority of the day.
A popular slogan against the proposition was “Prop. 204—It’s Hogwash.” Travis was in support of the proposition, explaining to friends how he felt about the character of the people fighting against it.
“If I get the opportunity to speak with them, I’ll explain what hogwash really is,” Travis said.
“Travis was always out to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves, even if they were ‘just animals,’” recalled a former girlfriend Lisa Andrews. “This is just one of the things I learned early on that Travis was so passionate about.”
Travis later adopted a little black pug he named Napoleon, which he often shortened to Naps or Napster. Travis took his dog everywhere and was often seen walking him around the neighborhood.
“Travis loved this dog like he would a child,” said Deanna Reid. “He would teach him all kinds of tricks and take him along on road trips.”
Another hobby Travis enjoyed was genealogy, tracing his family lineage. Charting his ancestry, he was excited to find a new family member and discover more about his own heritage.
Perhaps due to their dysfunctional upbringing, several of Travis’s siblings struggled as adults. At least two of his brothers and sisters got involved in drugs; another had trouble with the law. After he moved to Mesa, Travis drifted some from his siblings, who always considered their brother the shining star of the family. But Travis always valued his family—especially Grandma Norma.
“Travis was the type of person who wanted to be close to everyone,” Hillary Wilcox recalled. “He would find those similarities in anyone he came in contact with and feel really close to him. That’s how he was.”
The majority of Travis’s spare time was devoted to fitness. As motivated as he was about his spiritual development, he was equally passionate about his physical health.
Wearing a pedometer, he monitored how many calories he burned each day. He exercised regularly, ate healthy, and did not smoke, drink alcohol, or consume caffeine. Friends remember his dedication to self-improvement was rivaled only by his devotion to fitness.
“Because he was self-employed, I would go to his house and he’d be on the treadmill listening to some author’s book on tape, working out listening to personal development,” said Taylor Searle.
Much of his exercise routine was done at home, where he kept gym equipment, including a treadmill, weight set, and punching bag. Almost daily Travis ran on a treadmill he stored in the corner of his bedroom. He lifted weights, did yoga, and hiked the vast desert trails on Arizona’s mountain ranges. When he was near the beach he loved wakeboarding.
Among his favorite activities was cycling. When riding his bike, even just around the neighborhood, he dressed as if he were racing in the Tour de France. He donned a bicycle helmet and wrap-around sunglasses, knee-length black biker shorts, and a checkered yellow cycling jersey emblazed with a logo for Dad’s Root Beer.
“Travis enjoyed biking. He had this really decked-out outfit that he would wear,” Hillary recalled. “It was really funny. I don’t know about cute, but really funny. He liked to strut his stuff in it.”
By 2006, Travis had built the ideal life for himself. He had everything he ever wanted—a spacious house, a nice car, a dream job, and an amazing group of friends.
Travis savored each day to a degree beyond that of a typical optimist. His zest for life was fervent and contagious.
“I love my life. Why I have been so blessed, is hard for me to understand,” Travis wrote on a blog he would later launch in 2008. “I have fantastic visionary friends, a supportive family, and most importantly the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I can honestly say that I awake every single day happy. I feel as if it is the way to live—to have purpose, to have righteous desire to make this world a better place because you are in it.”
CHAPTER 7
Travis relished his single status. Throughout his twenties, he lived a bachelor lifestyle, dating a score of attractive young women.
Handsome, charismatic, successful, and funny—Travis knew he was appealing to the opposite sex. When he approached a woman, he’d often flex his biceps or make a playfully cocky quip about his “dangerous good looks.”
Travis loved it when, at speaking engagements, the host would state, “By the way, ladies, Travis is single,” an announcement that was usually followed by cat calls from the crowd.
“He really tried to be a ladies’ man,” Taylor Searle recalled. “He loved to charm the ladies, loved to flirt.”
Travis was popular among women in general, and Mormon women in particular. Many of the women he dated were single Mormons he met at church.
Among the functions of an LDS singles ward is to facilitate opportunities for church members to meet their future spouses. Latter-day Saints place an unusually strong emphasis on marriage, believing it is ordained by God. Every LDS member who is able to is expected to marry.
Because of this belief, Latter-day Saints take dating and courtship more seriously than those for whom marriage has less religious significance.
Unlike many of his peers, however, Travis was not interested in finding a spouse, at least not throughout his twenties. He enjoyed dating and had no plans to settle down.
* * *
Dating in Mormon culture comes with boundaries. Celibacy before marriage is one of the basic tenets of the Mormon faith and sex of any kind prior to marriage is considered sinful.
As part of the Law of Chastity, the church teaches its members not only to abstain from adultery and fornication, but also to refrain from masturbation and sexually inappropriate thoughts. In addition, members of the LDS church are encouraged to avoid pornography and adult-themed movies and shows.
Before going on his mission, Travis swore a covenant to God not to have sexual relations with anyone but his lawful wife during the Endowment Ceremony, a sacred Mormon ritual that involves secret gestures and passwords as well as scripted Biblical reenactments. As a constant reminder of his promise of celibacy, Travis was provided with special temple garments, consisting of a top and bottom piece, which he was expected t
o wear every day for the rest of his life, only removing them to shower and change, or acceptable times like swimming or intense sports.
As a further reminder of his faith, Travis wore a silver ring engraved with the initials “CTR,” as a prompting to “Choose the Right,” a motto of his religion and a saying among members of the LDS church, which is taken from a hymn of the same title.
Everyone who met Travis knew he was devout. He was rarely absent from church, prayed daily, and did not use alcohol or drugs, which are forbidden by the church. He had read The Book of Mormon more than twenty times and could recite hundreds of passages by heart. He preached the gospel and spoke with passion about his covenants with God—including the importance of celibacy.
As far as his friends and family knew, Travis’s faith extended to his covenant not to engage in sexual relations prior to marriage. His older brothers bragged about Travis’s dedication, proudly referring to him, up until the end of his life, as a “thirty-year-old virgin.”
But unbeknown to his friends and family, Travis had failed to keep his vow of chastity.
It is impossible to know exactly the extent of his sexual activity or how many partners he had throughout his life. But at least two women he had dated would later come forward, admitting to prosecutors that they had had a sexual relationship with Travis.
One of those women was Travis’s longtime friend and ex-girlfriend Deanna Reid. The couple had dated exclusively from 2002 to 2005, when Deanna broke up with Travis because she was ready to marry and he was not. Over a period of about a year they had sex several times, although they both kept it a closely guarded secret.
Several of Travis’s friends were aware he had engaged in sexual activity, but were under the impression that it didn’t reach the extent of actual intercourse. With most people, however, Travis didn’t discuss his sex life. He tried to be an example and would have likely been ashamed of his indiscretions.
The extent of his sex life was a secret Travis would take to the grave. It was only after his murder that it would be exposed.
Picture Perfect: The Jodi Arias Story: A Beautiful Photographer, Her Mormon Lover, and a Brutal Murder Page 5