James C. Whittemore

James C. Whittemore, 83, of Binghamton went home to be with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, on Friday, May 8, 2020. He passed away at the Susquehanna Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Johnson City, NY due to complications from COVID-19. Born on December 16, 1936 in Binghamton, NY, Jim was a loving husband, a father of three daughters, and a long time employee of Whipples Lumber. Jim loved animals, gardening, fishing, and hunting with his brother and nephews. Jim was active for decades in his church, Calvary Baptist of Binghamton. He worked in Awana, served as a deacon, and especially enjoyed a missions work trip to Peru. He was known for his considerable generosity, infectious laugh, humor, and compassionate spirit. Jim was predeceased by his father, Earl, and his mother, Vivian; brothers: Robert, Earl, and (twin) Jack Whittemore; and sisters: Yvonne Morgan and Mary Lou Lenox. He is survived by his devoted wife, Margaret, and three daughters: Christine (Timothy) Lamb, Karen Eaton, and Rebecca Williams; brother: William Whittemore; seven grandchildren: Chelsea Gallagher, Alicia Lamb, Monique Carter, Alexia Lamb, Cameron Eaton, Connor Eaton, and Dorian Williams; three great grandchildren: Jamier, Aria, and Isabella; and numerous nieces and nephews.  A private committal ceremony will take place at Vestal Hills Memorial Park with Reverend Steve Niles officiating. In lieu of flowers, the family would be honored to have donations sent to Calvary Baptist Church, 466 Chenango St. Binghamton, 13901. It is Well With My Soul When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to knowa
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul!b        

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