Holman quality wins again

Joycelin Holman, at Weston’s Robert L. Bland Middle School, was chosen Lewis County Young Writers winner among 7^th/8^th graders.

Joycelin Holman, Jay's granddaughter

Joycelin, a regular occupant of the Bland School’s honor role, is the daughter of Robert and Billie Jean Holman of Jane Lew and a granddaughter of Jay Holman, Class of 1971, who herds the cats for Lions reunions.

Joycelin has three siblings – Ava, Austin and Elijah.

Robert Holman works for the federal government out of Clarksburg.

Jay’s other sons are Jay Holman III, a Chicago banker, and Michael Holman, North Carolina’s Career and Technical Educations Teacher of the Year for 2017.

Jay resides in Atlantic Beach, North Carolina with wife Margaret, a Fairmont West graduate. He lived in Carolina during his Monongah High days.

Jay is a professional photographer, often providing me with photos of the Class of 1971 reunions, the annual all-class versions or just a roundup of the 1971 gadabouts.

Weston County Democrat staff members

As a newspaper editor with 43 years of experience with good writing I can tell you that Joycelin has a knack for getting the reader to visualize the scene.

See for yourself. Here is Joycelin’s story:

The strange, cloaked figure stood on the precipice, his dark, rheumy eyes swept

across the captivating landscape. Fluffy gold clouds surrounded the beautiful

castle, which shone like the moon on the blackest of nights. A small village lay

below, people bustling this way and that, ignoring the seemingly forgotten

castle. When the king had vanished, the castle shot out of the ground and was

now unreachable by mere mortals. So the once lively castle lay dormant. The man

let out a sigh, which sounded more like finger scratching along sandpaper. His

ancient face then fell on the approaching figure. A mighty roar shook the very

ground the old man stood on. Suddenly, a massive red dragon with wings as large

as its body erupted from the golden, sun-bathed clouds. The man took a shaky

step back and watched the magnificent creature flap its mighty wings, sending a

burst of wind into the man's haggard face. The red dragon paused to look at the

strange figure, the dragon had now expected him to have run away. Most intruders

did, but there seemed to be an aura of mystery surrounding this stranger. The

dragon's burning gaze locked onto the man's as it took a deep breath, much

deeper than a human's breath. The dragon's chest filled with air, and its lungs

seemed to crackle with pure fire. Smoke billowed from the dragon's flaring

nostrils, and then the dragon exhaled. The fire's intense heat swept across the

ground below, burning almost everything in sight. The man took a shaky exhale,

and tried to ignore the sound of his people screaming in fear. The wails of

children seemed to echo in his mind, the dying gasp of a young woman repeated

over and over in his head, haunting his very conscience. The man could not stand

the suffering of his subjects any longer, he tore of his disguise, his long

black cape drifting away in the wind. He blinked, his clouded eyes becoming a

bright blue. The "old man" was certainly not old, youth radiated around him, his

jet black hair blew in the fierce breeze. He put his hand on his hip and

unsheathed a long, silver sword. The sword glimmered like a newborn star in the

night. The young man began to run forward, and then, he jumped off the cliff.

The dragon's piercing eyes widened with surprise, the King had returned. The

King, still falling, started to whistle a high, shrill tune. He heard a loud

neigh and the sound of rocks cracking, a pure white winged horse galloped

through the clouds. It's wings beat effortlessly as it grew closer to its

forgotten King. The King fell onto his mighty steed's back and pointed his sword

at the dragon. The horse understood and reared up, letting out a whinny of a

battle cry. The dragon lifted its proud head and began the process of filling

it's lungs with hot air when it stopped suddenly, looking down, the dragon saw a

silver, shining blade in its heart. The dragon looked at the forgotten King one

last time with its burning eyes, and began to fade away, bits and pieces of the

mighty beast cast into the wind, drifting off beyond the tall hills, until all

that was left of the fire-breathing murderer, was a single, ember colored

scale....