I need to share with you something you will not hear from nearly all septic companies: I’ve been waist-deep in raw sewage since I was twelve years old. Seems glamorous, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my siblings and I thought our parents had completely lost their minds. Instead of enrolling us for little league like typical kids, we were carving out trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Little did we know those wounds would transform into our blueprint.

This is the harsh truth most companies refuse to admit: Septic work is not just about equipment. It’s about understanding what goes on underground after the equipment leaves. Most folks get into this business through maintenance vans. We? We began with tools in our hands and clay up to our knees.

I’m never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and declared, “Kid, if you can’t lay pipe straight, you’ll drown somebody’s lawn in crap by Tuesday.” He was not wrong. We spent three days that July wrestling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—digging, measuring, swearing, repeat. But here comes the surprise: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a dying drain field from 50 yards.

That’s the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While competitors were occupied with buying expensive trucks, we were learning why systems truly fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we watched a “professional” crew install a tank with absolutely no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a swamp. We vowed then: No shortcuts. Ever.

Fast forward to 2009. My brother Art (you’ll see his name all over our permits) nearly bankrupted us requiring on triple-checking every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he’d growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the recession hit? Our systems kept working while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” was a thing whispered between contractors.

Here’s where we’re different: We construct systems like we’re going to have to fix them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville rang freaking out about a holiday backup. Art went out in his turkey-stained shirt. As it happened her “maintenance-free” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We never just solve it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You think that’s standard? Wrong. Most companies push you on a $200/month service plan. We would rather you comprehend your system. Like that time we sketched drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his children added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots attacked his leach field last spring, he spotted the waterlogged grass before it became a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It ain’t not secret at all. You’ll find it in the rough hands. In the way Art still answers the phone at (425) 553-3422 personally. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer’s “no-rock drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and solid tips). It’s in the YouTube video where we time-lapsed a 72-hour install in pouring Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the real magic: We’ve turned every setback into your advantage. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Showed us to add root barriers automatically. The “ghost flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are different—we spec heavier concrete after seeing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Please don’t just take my testimony for it. Ask the ex- Boeing engineer who challenged us to tackle his sloping lot in Duvall. “No way,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system that’s outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose contractor installed an too-small tank—we rebuilt their entire layout during a winter storm without exceeding their budget.

This isn’t corporate fluff. These are 25 years of frozen fingers, misunderstood soil reports, and relentless pride in doing it properly. We have cried over failed trenches in January downpours. High-fived when our sand-filter system rescued a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even interred our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an epic granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies wondering who isn’t going to evaporate after the check clears? Remember the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: “A decent system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We never just build this business—we developed it from the ground up, webpage one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?