Allow me to tell you something you will not hear from the majority of septic companies: I have been elbow-deep in raw sewage since I was a preteen years old. Seems appealing, right? Back in the heat of '98, my siblings and I thought our folks had gone and lost their minds. Instead of signing up for little league like regular kids, we were excavating trenches for our family's new septic system under the blistering Washington sun. Who knew those wounds would become our blueprint.

Here's the dirty truth the majority of companies will not admit: Septic work isn't just about pipes and pumps. It's really about knowing what happens underground after the backhoe leaves. The majority of folks get into this business through service vehicles. We? We began with implements in our hands and muck up to our knees.

I'll never forget the day our installer, old Gus Petrovich, handed me a level and declared, "Kid, if you are unable to lay pipe straight, you'll drown someone's lawn in waste by Tuesday." He sure wasn't wrong. We spent three days that July battling with a challenging clay bed near Redmond—shoveling, measuring, cursing, repeat. But this is the surprise: Gus kept bringing us to jobs all over Snohomish County. By 15, I could spot a deteriorating drain field from 50 yards.

That is the DNA of Septic Solutions LLC. While rivals were focused on buying fancy trucks, we were learning why systems actually fail. Like that horror project in '03 where we watched a "certified" crew install a tank with absolutely no regard for soil percolation. Three months later? Backyard looked like a wetland. We promised then: No compromises. Ever.

Fast forward to 2009. My brother Art (you're going to see his name all over our permits) practically bankrupted us insisting on triple-checking every perc test. "Remember the swamp house," he would growl. We ate instant noodles for six months. But when the recession hit? Our systems kept functioning while others failed. Suddenly, "Nikolin boys" was a thing mentioned between contractors.

Here's where we are different: We create systems like we will have to repair them ourselves. Because you know what? We typically do. Last Thanksgiving, Mrs. Callahan in Woodinville rang freaking out about a holiday backup. Art drove out in his dinner-soiled shirt. As it happened her "self-maintaining" system installed in 2015 had a filter no one told her about. We didn't just fix it—we instructed her grandson how to clean it.

You assume this is standard? Wrong. The majority of companies prefer you on a $200/month maintenance plan. We would rather you comprehend your system. Like that time we drew drainage diagrams on Dave Miller's kitchen table in Everett while his toddlers 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. You'll find it in the blisters. 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 "stone-less drain field masterpiece" (@septic_solutionsllc—follow for laughs and solid tips). It's in the YouTube video where we condensed a 72-hour install in torrential Kirkland rain (@septicsolutionsllc).

But here's the real magic: We've turned every mistake into your advantage. That overgrown disaster in Bothell? Taught us to add root barriers by default. The "ghost flush" mystery in Sammamish? Now we install effluent filters on every job. Even our tanks are unique—we spec stronger concrete after observing how Pacific Northwest winters destroy cheaper models.

Do not just take my testimony for it. Ask the ex- Boeing engineer who tested us to tackle 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 the young family in Monroe whose contractor homepage installed an too-small tank—we reconfigured their whole layout during a snowstorm without breaking their budget.

This ain't marketing fluff. This is 25 years of frozen fingers, misunderstood soil reports, and relentless pride in doing it properly. We have cried over caved-in trenches in January downpours. High-fived when our sand-filter system saved a historic Carnation farmhouse. Even interred our favorite shovel (RIP #3) with Viking funeral honors after it shattered during an legendary granite battle.

So if you are scrolling through septic companies thinking who won't vanish after the check clears? Remember the boys who still recall their first lesson from Gus: "A good 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 is your system hiding?