Bugler retires from army fife and drum corps

ADDICTED TO RUNNING Before college, Creadon was advised to start running to get in shape for marching up and down a football field. He started jogging in his driveway and graduated to

running in his cul-de-sac. Decades later, he has competed in more than 50 marathons. His best time: 3 hours, 12 minutes, 50 seconds. A fixture at the annual Army Ten-Milers, Creadon also

completed a 5K, 10K, half marathon and marathon —  48-plus miles in all — over four consecutive days at Walt Disney World in 2015. “I’m kind of a nuts runner,” he admits. The next year,

Creadon was back at Disney World to perform with the Fife and Drum Corps when Prince Harry hosted his Invictus Games for wounded warriors.   When not putting on shows — or running — Creadon

composes music, teaches at a community college and keeps a hand in audio engineering, video editing and photography. He works part-time photographing newborns and their families before they

leave the hospital. Music will remain an integral part of his life — teaching, composing and playing. He has played with the Alexandria-based Virginia Grand Military Band, composed of former

members of Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine bands, and is considering an encore with the orchestra. His many passions portend an active retirement. “Maybe I'll do several different

part-time things,” he says, noting he’s pleased at the prospect of a military pension, although calling it quits will means a drop in income compared to the pay of a sergeant first class

with 26 years in. IN RETIREMENT, WILL BE MISSED The corps will miss his bad “dad jokes” and upbeat, generous spirit, says Sgt. 1st Class Erin McHale, a fifer who doubles as the corps’ public

affairs officer. “He had such a good attitude,” McHale, 30, says. “He had the ability to kind of like knock you out of your headspace if you were in … a bad headspace.” “He is possibly,”

she adds, “the most philanthropic person I know.” Creadon has donated blood, platelets or plasma 298 times. He is helping with a virtual fundraiser for a children’s hospital and urges

donations, not retirement gifts. He doesn’t want a party, either. Downsizing is one reason he’s discouraging gifts. He and his wife plan to sell their condo and have a tiny house built on

five acres they own along the Potomac River. A tiny house in Maryland means he won’t be far from the Fife and Drum Corps, a tight-knit group whose personnel grow close since they aren’t

subject to back-to-back relocations like other troops. “We've got our rank and everything,” he says of the corps, “but we tend to be a little bit more a family.”