The Black Thing

When I was little, somehow we acquired a tall black cone. I believe it was for the end of some kind of fire extinguisher, but it was just the 'Black Thing' to me. I loved it. I wish I could describe what it was made of,  but the closest my memory and limited resource of description can come up with is a type of molded Masonite rolled together and painted black.
   I have no idea why I liked it so much. Maybe because it was just so weird. No one else had a toy like this. I kept it in my room. It worked as a megaphone for cheerleading, a very uncomfortable chair, something to swing around and my favorite- a fog horn. I used to love foggy days in the winter. I would walk down the street to Stoker School and walk onto the football field until I couldn't see any of the edges of the field. It felt very isolated. I loved the feeling of muffled silence in my ears as I stood in the dimness of the day. The trees stood far away- dark, stiff and mysterious. I would put the 'Black Thing' to my lips and blast a great embouchure. I remember the terrific tickle that buzzed my lips. I usually  had to whip the black Thing down and rub my lips. I loved hearing the blast of sound echoing into the moist gray blanket surrounding me. I still wonder what ever happened to my Black Thing. I think my mom hated having that thing around the house. I probably would if my kids had acquired something that obnoxious. I tried to understand when they had treasures. But I do know that I loved when junky things finally passed to the trash. Is that what happened to my Black Thing?

This is as close as I can get to an image of the Black Thing.....what was I thinking putting my mouth on that?!!