Let me share with you something you won’t hear from most septic companies: I’ve actually been buried in raw sewage since I was a preteen years old. Seems attractive, right? Back in the blazing days of ’98, my siblings and I thought our folks had gone and lost their minds. Instead of registering for little league like normal kids, we were carving out trenches for our family’s new septic system under the scorching Washington sun. Who knew those blisters would become our blueprint.

Let me share the ugly truth nearly all companies will not admit: Septic work ain’t just about equipment. It’s about knowing what occurs underground after the backhoe leaves. The majority of folks get into this business through service vehicles. We? We launched with tools in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, tossed me a level and said, “Young man, if you can’t lay pipe straight, you’re gonna drown a person’s lawn in crap by Tuesday.” He wasn’t wrong. We dedicated three days that July wrestling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—excavating, measuring, swearing, repeat. But this is the twist: 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 others were occupied with buying flashy trucks, we were discovering why systems really fail. Like that horror project in ’03 where we observed a “professional” crew install a tank with absolutely no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Backyard looked like a swamp. We swore then: No shortcuts. Not once.

Skip ahead to 2009. My brother Art (you’re going to see his name all over our permits) nearly bankrupted us insisting on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he’d growl. We ate cheap food for six months. But when the crash hit? Our systems kept operating while others failed. All at once, “Nikolin boys” turned into a thing shared between contractors.

Here’s where we stand different: We create systems like we’ll have to service them ourselves. Because you know what? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called 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 repair it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You think this is standard? Think again. Most companies push you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We would rather you understand your system. Like that time we sketched drainage diagrams on Dave Miller’s kitchen table in Everett while his toddlers added crayon clouds. Why? Because when Dave’s willow tree roots invaded his leach field last spring, he caught the wet grass before it turned into a disaster.

Our secret sauce? It ain’t not secret at all. It’s in the calluses. In the way Art still answers the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew cringes 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 compressed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But this is the real magic: We have turned every setback into your gain. That green disaster in Bothell? Showed us to add root barriers standard. The “phantom flush” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are different—we spec heavier concrete after witnessing how Pacific Northwest winters damage cheaper models.

Do not just take my testimony for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who tested us to manage his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We created him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose builder installed an too-small tank—we redesigned their complete layout during a blizzard without breaking their budget.

This is not marketing fluff. This is 25 years of numb fingers, misunderstood soil reports, homepage and fierce pride in doing it right. We have cried over failed trenches in January storms. High-fived when our sand-filter system rescued a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even buried our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it snapped during an legendary granite battle.

So if you’re scrolling through septic companies questioning who won’t disappear after the check clears? Remember the boys who still recall their first lesson from Gus: “A decent system hides. A superior system works while hiding.” We did not just build this business—we cultivated it from the ground up, one honest hole at a time.

Your turn. What is your system hiding?