Let me tell you something you will not hear from nearly all septic companies: I have been buried in raw sewage since I was twelve years old. Seems attractive, right? Back in the heat of ’98, my brothers and I thought our folks had completely 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 brutal Washington sun. Little did we know those calluses would transform into our blueprint.

Let me share the ugly truth nearly all companies won’t admit: Septic work ain’t just about pipes and pumps. It’s about understanding what happens underground after the equipment leaves. Most folks enter this business through pumping trucks. We? We started with shovels in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I’ll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, web page handed me a level and said, “Boy, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you’ll drown somebody’s lawn in sewage by Tuesday.” He wasn’t wrong. We invested three days that July wrestling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—excavating, measuring, groaning, repeat. But here’s the surprise: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could identify a failing drain field from 50 yards.

This is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were focused on buying fancy trucks, we were understanding why systems really 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? Backyard looked like a wetland. We vowed then: No compromises. Ever.

Fast forward to 2009. My brother Art (you’re going to see his name all over our permits) almost bankrupted us requiring on thoroughly testing every perc test. “Think about the swamp house,” he used to growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the downturn hit? Our systems kept operating while others collapsed. Overnight, “Nikolin boys” became a thing mentioned between contractors.

Here’s where we are different: We create systems like we’re going to have to service them ourselves. Because you know what? We usually do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville phoned in crisis about a holiday emergency. Art went out in his gravy-covered shirt. Apparently her “no-service” system installed in 2015 had a filter not a soul told her about. We did not just fix it—we taught her grandson how to clean it.

You think that is standard? Not a chance. The majority of companies push you on a $200/month care plan. We’d rather you comprehend your system. Like that time we drew 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 soggy grass before it became a disaster.

Our magic formula? It ain’t not secret at all. It’s in the calluses. In the way Art still picks up the phone at (425) 553-3422 himself. In the Instagram reel where my nephew cringes at a DIYer’s “gravel-free drain field masterpiece” (@septic_solutionsllc—check us out for laughs and real tips). You’ll see it in the YouTube video where we time-lapsed a 72-hour install in relentless Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here’s the true magic: We have turned every setback into your gain. That mossy disaster in Bothell? Made us to add root barriers automatically. The “mysterious backup” mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on each job. Even our tanks are special—we spec thicker concrete after seeing how Pacific Northwest winters destroy cheaper models.

Please don’t just take my word for it. Ask the ex- Boeing engineer who challenged us to handle his sloping lot in Duvall. “Can’t be done,” said three companies. We constructed him a pressurized system which has outlasted two of his cars. Or the young family in Monroe whose contractor installed an undersized tank—we reconfigured their entire layout during a winter storm without exceeding their budget.

This is not marketing fluff. It’s 25 years of frozen fingers, misread soil reports, and relentless pride in doing it right. We have cried over failed trenches in January rains. Celebrated when our sand-filter system preserved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even laid to rest our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it broke during an epic granite battle.

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

Your turn. What’s your system hiding?