The roots of Damiani Septic and Site go back to my Father Pete. Dad got his feet wet (pun intended) in the onsite septic business, laboring and operating a 1950’s era ford tractor equipped with a pippin backhoe. In the early sixties Pete purchased a J.I. Case backhoe/loader and drove it all over Bucks and Montgomery counties installing septic systems. In 1973 when I was 12, I started working summers for Dad installing septic systems and building new homes. In 1984 my Wife Gwen and I purchased dad’s 1972 Case 580B backhoe, 1978 Caterpillar 941B track loader, and 1977 International tandem axle dump truck and trailer, and we were officially self employed. Gwen ran the office and I ran the equipment. Over the years we continued to learn new technologies, build relationships, update equipment, and work our tails off.
In all things, whatever you wish that men would do for you, do the same for them, for this is the fullness of the law and the prophets.
Matt. 7 : 12
In 2013, our oldest son Drew (26) came onboard full time and joined the family business. Boy are we glad to have him! Drew is a great worker, a terrific mechanic, and really enjoys learning new skills. Oh, and my father Pete, now 75, still enjoys coming to work when we can pull him away from turkey hunting and coyote trapping. So now we are a three generation family business, and if we have the privilege of working for you, rest assured that one, two, or all three of us will be performing all work personally.
One Day At A Funeral
As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in the back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical man, I didn’t stop for directions.
I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played ‘Amazing Grace,’ the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, “I never seen nothin’ like that before and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”
Apparently, I’m still lost… It’s a man thing.