Jim Black wants to make a few things clear.

He never took cash in the bathroom at the Capital Grille.

He never bribed Michael Decker.

He never took money to enrich himself.

Black is the former Democratic House speaker whose 2007 conviction capped one of North Carolina's biggest public corruption cases and led to sweeping ethics reforms.

Black spent more than three years in federal prison. He lost his reputation and his right to vote. And last month, he lost Betty, his wife of 55 years, to Lou Gehrig's disease.

He admits he broke the law. But he insists he's not "the kind of person portrayed by the media" and has sought to paint his side since he was released from custody this month.

Critics such as Republican Les Merritt, executive director of the Foundation for Ethics in Public Service, calls it little more than an effort to "whitewash his reputation."

At 76, Black is trying to rebuild his life.

He's beginning to schedule appointments at the Matthews optometry clinic he shares with his daughter. He plays golf with friends and spends time with his grandchildren.

His face is fuller; he gained 25 pounds in prison despite walking at least five miles a day. His hair is streaked with gray. He speaks as softly as ever.

He talks about fellow inmates - the surgeon, the pharmacist, the drug dealers - at the federal prison in Jesup, Ga. He recalls the guards who seemed to go out of their way to humiliate him. He remembers how it felt to not be in control of his life.

"I'm really not bitter," Black insists, sitting in his optometry office. "I'm happy to be alive. I'm happy to be healthy."

At the same time, he blames his troubles largely on political enemies.

"The whole world wanted me dead politically," he says. "You have a good many opportunities over all those years to make a lot of people unhappy."

Denies bathroom claim

In a 2007 agreement with federal prosecutors, Black pleaded guilty to having "accepted things of value, specifically cash ... in connection with the business of state government" from 2000 to 2005.

Later in state court, he pleaded guilty to the felonies of offering a bribe and obstruction of justice. He entered a so-called Alford plea, accepting the agreement without admitting guilt.

In a brief courtroom statement, he took responsibility for taking cash from chiropractors "in violation of the federal gratuities statute and state campaign finance law." But like his lawyer then, he disputes specific allegations.

One involved a 2005 fundraiser hosted by chiropractors at the Capital Grille.

Investigators said a chiropractor met Black in a bathroom and gave him $3,000 in cash. When a restaurant employee interrupted them, prosecutors said, the two stepped outside to finish their transaction.

"Absolutely not true," says Black. And two Charlotte chiropractors who say they were there say Black never went to the bathroom.

"From the time he came in the front door until he left, he never left the room until the meeting was over," says Dennis Watts. "I'm positive."

Prosecutors recounted other occasions when they said chiropractors gave Black money, including $25,000 cash over three years. Black acknowledges taking cash, often in envelopes with campaign checks. But he says his mistake was not reporting it.

"All he did wrong was accept illegal campaign contributions because it was cash and unreported," says Black's former lawyer, Charlotte attorney Ken Bell. "We worked out a plea agreement to avoid potential lifelong prison."

Says Black: "Everybody gave me a lot of money - the bankers, the lawyers, everybody who had interests before the legislature. You had a better chance of getting access if you were a contributor. It's still that way."

'I didn't bribe him'

In 2007, a state investigator testified that Black had negotiated a secret cash-for-vote deal with Decker. The Forsyth County Republican's abrupt party switch in 2003 cost the GOP its House majority and allowed Black to stay in power as co-speaker.

Black says that although he promised Decker campaign support, he was always wary.

"I told Decker that everything I raise for you has to be above board," he says. "...The first thing I said was ... 'Your votes are not for sale and I don't buy votes."

In 2007, Decker was sentenced to four years in federal prison after saying he accepted a $50,000 bribe from Black. Black says he gave Decker contributions to help him win re-election, not bribes. "I didn't bribe Decker; Decker knows I didn't bribe him," he says.

Decker, released last year, could not be reached.

Black, while acknowledging wrongdoing, says he pleaded guilty to avoid a lengthy and costly trial that would have become a media "feeding frenzy" and could have resulted in a longer sentence.

"This is not the first person who has come back and been critical of the process," says Wake County District Attorney Colon Willoughby. "But I don't think it would be helpful for me to make statements critical of Dr. Black ...

"I didn't see anything about his prosecution that I thought was politically motivated."

'Walking-around money'

In Black's two decades in the House, it wasn't unusual for lobbyists and interest groups to lavish favors on legislators. Expense-paid golf outings to places such as Augusta and Tanglewood were not uncommon.

Black says he once mentioned to someone that an interest group had invited a group of Senate leaders to Augusta. The next thing he knew, he had an invitation, too.

"There used to be a culture that everybody sort of went along with," he said. "It's not hard to run up a tally of more than $5,000 (in gifts) in one year. It's a pretty well-accepted practice."

New ethics laws, most passed since Black's conviction, have changed that.

But Black says he got caught up in that culture, as well as in perks accumulated during eight years as speaker. But he insists he never used his power to line his pockets. The cash, he says, was for the "walking-around money" candidates gave campaign workers on Election Day.

"I didn't go to the legislature until I could afford it," he says. "I didn't need to take money then and I don't now."

Taking his time now

Black, who says he read the Bible cover to cover twice in prison, says "God called a time-out in my life." Once a lead-footed driver, he says he was forced to slow down in many ways.

"I can enjoy scenery I never took time to look at before," he says.

He's working on a memoir he started in prison. He goes for walks and tries to reconnect. Former Matthews Mayor Lee Myers says some people are more forgiving than others.

"He's a neighbor, he's a friend and he's a human being," Myers says.

But Merritt, who runs the ethics foundation, doesn't want anyone to lose sight of Black's misdeeds. "There were some serious things that happened, and it needs to be truly remembered and represented that way," he says.