Matthew “Dinger” Bell, age 47 passed away Thursday, August 27, 2026 from a sudden illness. He was born March 16, 1979 to Keith Bell and Billie Jean Gustin.
Matt was preceded in death by his father, sister Jolynn, and grandparents.
He is survived by his mother, loving wife and companion Lisa Boyer, her daughters Kylee and Kamrie. His children Kaden Cash, Kylie Sage Bell. Siblings, Wade Bell, Marci Steed, Dean Bell.
Matt worked several jobs including Staker Parsons, Burdick, Adobe, and ranch/farm work. He was an expert heavy equipment operator and would have contests to see who could load the most trucks in a day.
His passion and heart was working as a cowboy. He started at home with his dad and worked at Rocking R in Antimony where he first met his good friend Kolbey Gleave. Matt treasured his time cowboying up 9 Mile Canyon gathering cows and staying in the log cabin.
Matt had good friends he considered brothers and enjoyed attending concerts and the National Finals Rodeo with them. His favorite places to be were the mountains looking for wildlife, the desert in search of wild-horses and times with family and Lisa.
Few people knew Matt was an artist, did leather work and was a jack of all trades that could repair anything.
Matt never missed an opportunity to express his love to his mother, with a nightly “Goodnight, love you.”
Matt and Lisa shared their lives doing anything outdoors, taking long drives listening to their favorite songs, sharing life stories, and making memories.
On their long drives Lisa would get asked to pull the car over and that meant one thing, Matt spotted wildflowers to put on the dash.
Matt’s love language was doing random acts of kindness, and always making sure his mom and Lisa were taken care of.
They loved watching Football, especially when their Broncos were playing Matt would be on the edge of his seat, palms sweating. Yelling very colorful language at the TV as if the
players could actually hear him. “GO BRONCOS!”
A Celebration Of Life is set for Saturday, September 19th at 4pm at the Fraternal Order Of The Eagles. 50 South 1st Street in Tooele. His family extends an invitation for family and friends to share their memories.
May Heaven give you a good horse and dog, a comfortable saddle and boots.
Until we meet again. The last goodbye’s the hardest one to say. This is where the Cowboy rides away.
9 Responses
Matt I was reading a comment from you just last week
Matt, I just talked to you the other day as you wish me a happy birthday
I am so sorry for your loss.
For Dinger love you cousin.
Matt to the paperwork. Dinger to everybody else,
and everybody else is who showed up.
Knew the feel of a good horse
the way some people know a voice.
Wanted one that worked.
Not pretty. Not papered. Worked.
That was the whole list.
Ropes coiled right, hung right,
and opinions about it.
Truck radio on the old stuff —
LeDoux, Marty Robbins, George Strait.
Music by men who meant it,
which is why he played it and not the rest.
Cold Budweiser at the end of the day.
Not the second one, not the fancy one — that one,
after the work, when the light went long.
He did things his way or not at all.
You could tell him he was wrong.
He’d listen the way a rock listens to rain,
then go on doing it his way,
and half the time his way was right.
That’s the part we don’t say enough:
he was hard to argue with
because he was hard to move,
and being hard to move
is how a man holds a place together.
Now there’s another empty saddle,
another horse with nobody on him.
You’ve made your last ride, cousin,
to that country up there
where the grass grows lush and green and stirrup high
and the water runs cool and clear and deep.
Welcome to heaven cowboy
Your entry fees are paid.
Written by Jenny Cerroni 8/30/2026
cousin hold my horse for me.
You always taught me to stand up for myself and not give a shit what anybody thought. We hadn’t talked for two years due to life and really wish we could’ve caught up. I love you brother and make sure they get you a beer and a smoke in heaven
I am so sorry for your loss.
Oh man another good one gone I am so sorry for your loss
Most people are gonna say something serious, but I can’t be serious or it makes me sad. I remember as a kid you where breaking an ugly black long nosed colt, and you put me on with ya and he went to bucking and that was the day I knew I loved animals that bucked. And I will say this even with you gone, your lime green boots were as ugly then as they are today! Gonna miss talking smack dinger, save me a spot on the chutes up there! Never good bye cowboy just see a later, I’ll play north to Alaska as loud as possible just for you
Our thoughts and prayers are with you at this difficult time.