Electrical Reviews

Tom is my brother, and he is my business partner, which means I have had a front row seat for 22 years of him being a first rate electrician and a last rate receptionist. I pull wire right beside him most days. I just got the phone manner in the family, and there is only one of me. Last winter Tom spent three hours in an attic full of Christmas boxes hunting a buried splice some handyman left behind, and I know for a fact four calls came in while he was up there sweating through his shirt. He will stop and answer if he hears it. He just answers like the phone interrupted a fight, which it usually did. After Launchbarr set up his Voice AI, a review came in that Tom read out loud in the truck, twice. The lady wrote that the patient girl in the office explained the diagnostic fee so clearly that she stopped calling around. That girl does not exist. It is the AI, answering while Tom is in an attic being short with a junction box instead of with a customer. He gets the details on his phone, calls back when his hands are free, and he is a nicer man for it. He told me last month, and I am quoting my own brother exactly, "She explains my prices better than I ever have, and she does it without sighing first."

I am 58 and I learned computers because somebody made me. My daughter built our first website and it was my logo, a phone number, and a picture of a truck I sold in 2016. People called asking if we did panel work. We do it every week. It just never said so. Launchbarr rebuilt it with our real jobs on it. A man in the next town over booked a car charger visit on the site and told me he picked us because the photos looked like his neighborhood. My daughter says it does not embarrass her anymore. Good enough.

I run the office for my brother in law, which mostly means I am the one customers forgive when we are running behind. He is a perfectionist and he will not leave a house until a fault is found, so he is late everywhere, all the time, with the best intentions in the world. The thing that helped us was not fancy. Customers get a message when he is on his way, and after the job they get asked for a review without me having to remember at 6 o clock when I am trying to get out the door. A lady a couple towns over wrote that he texted, arrived when the text said, and found a loose neutral two other people had missed. He read that review twice. Then he said, "Tell the computer I said thanks," like it was a person down the hall. Around here, it kind of is.

I bought into the company six years ago, so Marcus is my partner, not my boss, a distinction he forgets every time a panel swap runs long. Marcus can wire anything God made. But put a ringing phone in his hand during a storm outage and he will give you one word answers while a homeowner is standing in a dark kitchen getting more scared by the minute. He means well. He just wants to be fixing it, not describing fixing it. When the ice storm knocked out half the east side in January, Marcus and I were both out with crews. The Voice AI Launchbarr set up for us answered somewhere north of a lot of calls we never would have gotten to. One older couple out past the edge of town told me later they assumed we had hired two new girls for the office, because somebody kind picked up at 11 at night, took down their panel information, and told them honestly it would be morning before a truck rolled. They waited for us. They did not call the next name. Marcus still grumbles that a machine should not sound more patient than him. Then last week I heard him tell a customer at a panel swap, "You probably talked to our girl last night. She is better on the phone than me, everybody knows that but her."

I have been an electrician for twenty six years and I answer the phone like a man defusing something. Short. Flat. My wife Carla says customers can hear me wishing they had called somebody else. She is not wrong. I am usually up in an attic tracing a dead circuit through boxes some handyman buried twenty years ago, and the phone buzzing in my pocket feels like one more thing trying to kill my day. Launchbarr set up a voice that answers for me, and I fought it for a month. Then a lady left a review saying the sweet girl in our office explained the diagnostic fee so calm she quit calling around. There is no girl in our office. There is me, Carla, and a shop dog. That voice explained my fee better than I ever have, patient, no sighing, no attitude, and the lady booked the visit while I was still in that attic. Now I call people back when my hands are clean and I am a better version of myself. Last week I told Carla I might retire my phone voice entirely. She said the customers already voted.

My husband Glenn can find a fault in a wall faster than anybody alive, but he cannot find his phone. It lives in the truck. A customer called twice, got nothing, then got a text back in under a minute asking what was going on at her house. That text is Launchbarr. She booked, and Glenn fixed her kitchen circuit the next morning.

I am an owner operator, which means I am the crew, the office, and the complaint department. Most of my nights used to end the same way, sitting in the truck in my own driveway answering website messages one thumb at a time while dinner got cold inside. Half of them were people asking if I install ceiling fans, like the site did not just say that. Now the messages get answered by the system Launchbarr put on my site. It asks the right questions, how many fans, how high are the ceilings, is there a box already there, and books the ones that are real. A lady told me at her install that she booked at midnight in her pajamas and figured I had hired an office girl. I told her the truth. She laughed and said hire more of her.

Ray is my partner, not my brother, though we fight like brothers. He runs crews, I run everything with a keyboard, and for years every message we got lived somewhere different. Calls on my cell, texts on his, Facebook messages nobody checked, emails in an inbox Ray calls the museum. A GC we work with needed a panel label schedule changed and told three different versions of us before one of us heard it. Launchbarr put every call, text, message, and email in one place where I can see the whole conversation with a customer in one look. Ray can see it too, which ended the daily game of who told who what. The GC sent me a text last month that just said fastest we have ever gotten a straight answer from you guys. That is framed in my head if not on the wall.

I never asked for reviews. Felt like begging. I would finish a panel swap, lights on, customer happy, and drive off with eleven reviews total, two from cousins. Launchbarr sends the ask on its own after every job now. A man wrote we found the loose neutral two other companies missed, and named the fee in the review and called it worth it.

I am the daughter, the office, and lately the one teaching my dad that a review with no answer looks abandoned. Dad has wired half of this town in forty years and types with one finger like the keyboard insulted him. He was never going to sit down at night and answer every review that came in. Launchbarr answers them for us, in words that sound like us, thanking people by name and mentioning the actual job. A customer wrote a long one about her generator hookup, and the reply thanked her and mentioned her husband's flashlight holding during the storm test. She called the next week to book her mother in law's panel job and told me whoever writes our replies is a sweetheart. Dad read that and said tell the computer I said thanks. He means it. He just says it to the screen.

I thought Google was for the young guys with the wrapped trucks. My profile had a photo of a shop I moved out of in 2019 and listed us under a category I still do not understand. My nephew showed me what came up when he searched electrician near me from a job across town. We were under a handyman with no license and a better picture. Launchbarr fixed the profile up proper, right categories, every service we actually do listed out, panel upgrades, generators, troubleshooting, and real photos of our work instead of stock pictures of smiling models holding drills wrong. The calls that come off the map now are local and they are real work. A lady said she picked us because our photos looked like her neighborhood. They were. Two streets over.

I answer the phones, so I got yelled at when customers drove to our old address off a listing that had not been right since 2017. Launchbarr cleaned every listing up so the name, address, and number match everywhere. The yelling stopped. Now people just call and ask for work.

Our old website was a logo, a phone number, and a picture of a lightning bolt that came free with something. People would call and ask if we did real work or just ceiling fans, which hurt, because panel swaps and whole house rewires are most of what we do. Launchbarr rebuilt the site with our actual jobs on it, our crew, our trucks, a burned panel we replaced a few towns over with the story of how it got that way. A homeowner told me he hired us because the site looked like a company that does the work, not a company that sells the work to somebody else. He said that before I gave him the price. His panel job went fine and he has sent us two neighbors since. The site finally tells the truth about us. It just tells it better than I did.

My husband Tom is a master electrician and a master at one thing else, losing the winter. Every January the phone would go quiet and Tom would sit at our kitchen table refreshing nothing, because a man who hates computers refreshes nothing, he just worries out loud. Our good customers from the summer, the panel jobs, the hot tub hookups, they never heard from us again after the check cleared. What Launchbarr did that I noticed first was the pages. There is a page for generator hookups, a page for panel upgrades, pages for the towns we actually work in, saying the actual work we do. A man a couple of towns over found the generator page in October, before the snow, and booked a consult Tom had been trying to get people to think about for years. Tom told him at the kitchen table, his table, not ours, that most folks wait for the first outage. The man said that is exactly why he called early. Somebody finally wrote down what Tom knows, town by town.

I am Randy. I bought in with Scott twelve years ago. No, we are not related. Scott is a great electrician and a terrible scheduler. He booked jobs on sticky notes, in texts, once on a lumber receipt,. The online calendar Launchbarr set up ended the receipt era. Customers book themselves into real openings, the diagnostic fee is stated before they pick a time, and Scott sees his whole week without calling me. A realtor in the next town books her inspection fixes through it like she is ordering lunch. Scott still keeps one sticky note on his dash. It says ask Randy.

No shows were eating me alive. I would drive forty minutes to a house two towns over for a troubleshooting call, knock, call, knock again, and get a text an hour later saying sorry, forgot, can we do Thursday. That is a morning and a tank of gas gone,. Now every appointment gets Launchbarr reminders on its own and an on my way text when I roll. A lady told me the reminder saved her too. She had the dogs put up and the panel cleared out before I got there. I almost did not know how to act in a house that was expecting me.

My wife Denise owns the company, I want that on the record. She built it from one truck while I worked at the plant, and I run a crew for her now. Her one weakness was paperwork speed. A quote would sit in her truck two days while the customer cooled off. Launchbarr put her estimates on a rail. She builds the number on her phone and the customer has it by text before her truck leaves the street. A builder told me he picked her bid because hers landed while he was still showing the other guys out.

I kept a notebook of dead estimates in my visor for nine years, jobs I quoted and never followed up. When Launchbarr turned on follow ups for old estimates, the system started writing to those people. The church across town came back first. We did their fellowship hall in the spring, and I threw the notebook in the shop stove.

I am the lead on our panel crew, twenty years with this outfit, and I used to make the awkward deposit call from a customer's driveway. Now the Launchbarr deposit link goes out with the booked job and most folks pay it on their phone before we roll. I just arrive and work. The money talk being done early makes the whole day friendlier.

I sell maintenance plans, and for years I billed them out of a shoebox of cards. Cards got lost. People got billed twice or never. Launchbarr put the plans on billing, card on file, receipt sent, no shoebox. A customer a few towns over likes getting the receipt without a phone call dance. I like not being a bill collector with a tool belt.

I am the son, second generation, which means I inherited my dad's customers and his filing system, and his filing system was a handshake and a carbon copy if you were lucky. Customers would lose the paperwork on a panel job and call us during a home sale in a panic, and Dad would dig through a drawer like an archaeologist. Now the agreements get signed through Launchbarr on the customer's phone at the kitchen table and everybody has a copy that lives somewhere findable. A realtor called me during a closing crunch and I pulled up a signed panel agreement from two years back in about a minute. She said our paperwork is faster than the title company's. Dad still does the handshake. Now the handshake has a signature attached to it somewhere he does not have to dig for.

Wes is my partner since trade school. A lead would live in my head for two days and die there. Launchbarr put every lead and job on one board we both see. A builder told Wes we are the most organized subs he works with. Wes waited until the man hung up to laugh.

I run the office for two brothers who are wonderful electricians and allergic to writing anything down twice. Who needs a call back, whose estimate is three days old, which customer waits on a permit update. The task list Launchbarr set up tells us who to follow up with and when,. We are three people and a list that never sleeps.

I am 64 and I have never posted a thing on the internet on purpose in my life. Photos of our finished work go out through Launchbarr on their own after jobs, a panel one town over, a service upgrade in the next. I told my daughter in law the pictures are doing the talking I never learned how to do.