Let me share with you something you won’t hear from the majority of septic companies: I’ve been buried in raw sewage since I was 12 years old. Looks appealing, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my brothers and I thought our mother and father had gone and lost their minds. Instead of registering for little league like typical kids, we were excavating trenches for our family’s new septic system under the blistering Washington sun. Little did we know those wounds would transform into our blueprint.

Let me share the dirty truth most companies will not admit: Septic work ain’t just about equipment. It’s about grasping what happens underground after the equipment leaves. Nearly all folks get into this business through pumping trucks. We? We began with implements in our hands and clay up to our knees.

I’m never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, threw me a level and barked, “Kid, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you will drown a person’s lawn in crap by Tuesday.” He sure wasn’t wrong. We invested three days that July wrestling with a stubborn clay bed near Redmond—digging, measuring, groaning, repeat. But here comes the surprise: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a failing drain field from 50 yards.

That’s the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were busy buying expensive trucks, we were learning why systems really fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we witnessed a “certified” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a swamp. We vowed then: No half-measures. Never.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you will see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us requiring on triple-checking every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate cheap food for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept operating while others broke down. Overnight, “Nikolin boys” became a thing mentioned between contractors.

This is where we’re different: We build systems like we’ll have to service them ourselves. Because guess what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called panicking about a holiday backup. Art drove out in his gravy-covered shirt. As it happened her “self-maintaining” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We did not just fix it—we showed her grandson how to clean it.

You assume this is standard? Not a chance. Most companies prefer you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We’d rather you comprehend your system. Like that time we mapped out 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 caught the waterlogged grass before it became a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It ain’t not secret at all. You’ll find it in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up 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—subscribe for laughs and real tips). It’s in the YouTube video where we time-lapsed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here’s the actual magic: We have turned all setback into your advantage. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers standard. The “ghost flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on all job. Even our tanks are special—we spec stronger concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters crack cheaper models.

Please don’t just take my testimony for it. Ask the retired Boeing engineer who challenged us to manage his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system that’s outlasted two of his cars. Or webpage the young family in Monroe whose developer installed an undersized tank—we reconfigured their entire layout during a winter storm without breaking their budget.

This isn’t business fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, and fierce pride in doing it properly. We’ve cried over collapsed trenches in January downpours. Celebrated when our sand-filter system preserved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even buried our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it broke during an legendary granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies wondering who isn’t going to disappear after the check clears? Consider the boys who still remember their first lesson from Gus: “A decent system hides. A superior system works while hiding.” We did not just create this business—we cultivated it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?