I need to tell you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I’ve been buried in raw sewage since I was a preteen years old. Looks attractive, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my siblings and I thought our mother and father had completely lost their minds. Instead of signing up for little league like normal kids, we were digging trenches for our family’s new septic system under the brutal Washington sun. Little did we know those blisters would turn into our blueprint.

Let me share the dirty truth most companies will not admit: Septic work isn’t just about equipment. It’s about grasping what goes on underground after the machinery leaves. Nearly all folks enter this business through service vehicles. We? We started 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 declared, “Kid, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you will drown somebody’s lawn in waste by Tuesday.” He was not wrong. We dedicated three days that July battling with a stubborn clay bed near Redmond—excavating, measuring, swearing, repeat. But here comes the twist: Gus kept inviting 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 competitors were focused on buying expensive trucks, we were learning why systems actually fail. Like that nightmare project in ’03 where we observed a “professional” crew install a tank with zero regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a wetland. We swore then: No shortcuts. Never.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you’ll see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us demanding on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he’d growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. Suddenly, “Nikolin boys” was a thing whispered between contractors.

Let me explain where we are different: We build systems like we will have to repair them ourselves. Because you know what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville phoned freaking out about a holiday emergency. Art went out in his gravy-covered shirt. Apparently her “maintenance-free” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We didn’t just fix it—we showed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe that is standard? Not a chance. Most companies push you on a $200/month care plan. We would rather you know 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 spotted the waterlogged grass before it turned into a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It’s not secret at all. It is in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew groans at a DIYer’s “stone-less drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and legit tips). It is in the YouTube video where we condensed a 72-hour install in pouring Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But let me share the real magic: We’ve turned each mistake into your gain. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers standard. The “mysterious backup” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on every job. Even our tanks are different—we spec thicker concrete after seeing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Do not just take my testimony for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who tested us to handle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We built him a pressurized system that’s outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an inadequate tank—we reconfigured their complete layout during a snowstorm without busting their budget.

This ain’t corporate fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misunderstood soil reports, and website stubborn pride in doing it right. We’ve cried over collapsed trenches in January downpours. Cheered when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even buried our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it snapped during an brutal granite battle.

So if you’re scrolling through septic companies thinking who won’t vanish after the check clears? Remember the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: “A good system hides. A great system works while hiding.” We did not just establish this business—we developed it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?