Let me share with you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I have been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was twelve years old. Sounds attractive, right? Back in the heat of ’98, my siblings and I thought our folks had completely lost their minds. Instead of enrolling us for little league like normal kids, we were digging trenches for our family’s new septic system under the blistering Washington sun. Who knew those calluses would become our blueprint.

Here’s the ugly truth most companies refuse to admit: Septic work is not just about equipment. It is about understanding what goes on underground after the equipment leaves. The majority of folks start in this business through pumping trucks. We? We launched with tools in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I will never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, handed me a level and declared, “Boy, if you cannot lay pipe straight, you’re gonna drown someone’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He sure wasn’t wrong. We dedicated three days that July battling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—shoveling, measuring, cursing, repeat. But here’s the surprise: Gus kept taking us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could identify a dying drain field from 50 yards.

That’s the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While others were occupied with buying expensive trucks, we were discovering why systems truly fail. Like that disaster project in ’03 where we observed a “professional” crew install a tank with no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Property looked like a marsh. We swore then: No half-measures. Ever.

Jump to 2009. My brother Art (you’ll see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us insisting on triple-checking every perc test. “Don’t forget the swamp house,” he would growl. We ate ramen for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept working while others collapsed. All at once, “Nikolin boys” turned into a thing whispered between contractors.

Let me explain where we stand different: We construct systems like we’re going to have to repair them ourselves. Because here’s the thing? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville called in crisis about a holiday overflow. Art rushed out in his dinner-soiled shirt. Apparently her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter no one told her about. We didn’t just repair it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You believe that’s standard? Wrong. Most companies prefer you on a $200/month care plan. We 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 penetrated his leach field last spring, he noticed the waterlogged grass before it became a disaster.

Our special ingredient? It is not secret at all. It’s in the blisters. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 personally. 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). You’ll see it in the YouTube video where we time-lapsed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

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

Do not just take my word for it. Ask the former Boeing engineer who dared us to handle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We built him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose contractor installed an inadequate tank—we redesigned their whole layout during a winter storm without busting their budget.

This isn’t corporate fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, web page and fierce pride in doing it correctly. We’ve cried over caved-in trenches in January rains. Celebrated when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even laid to rest our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an brutal granite battle.

So if you find yourself scrolling through septic companies questioning who isn’t going to vanish after the check clears? Consider the boys who still know their first lesson from Gus: “A good system hides. A superior system works while hiding.” We didn’t just build this business—we developed it from the ground up, one real hole at a time.

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?