He Was Waterboarded on a Front Porch at 5 Years Old. That Moment Changed His Life

One summer afternoon on Chicago’s South Side, a five-year-old boy ran across the yard of his apartment building to see what the neighborhood kids were lining up for.

On the front steps of his neighbor’s house sat Albert, a young man in a Marine Corps t-shirt, pouring water over another kid’s face. Marcos Estrada didn’t know it at the time, but he was watching a live demonstration of waterboarding. And believe it or not - he couldn’t wait to try it.

“I remember popping up, coughing and gasping for air,” Estrada said. “I looked at Albert and asked him, ‘Where did you learn that?’ He said, ‘The Marines.’ And I said, ‘I want to be a Marine.’”

That was the one thing that stuck in Estrada’s mind through violence, poverty, arrests, and near-death. That day, Albert became a lifeline - not that he was aware. Although he would one day become aware in the most unlikely way. More on that to come.

But first, over the coming decades, Estrada would serve over 20 years in the Marine Corps. He would lead more than 100 combat missions, appear on billboards honoring his service, and retire with his family by his side. He would earn his Executive MBA, help grow a company to over $30 million, and now, with his longtime friend Edgar, launch Valor Jiu Jitsu in Orland Park.

But none of that was ever guaranteed.

From Gangway to Chicago Billboards

“I grew up in a very violent home,” Estrada says. “My dad was a heroin addict. He was in and out of prison. I took my first steps in a prison visiting room.”

By seventh grade, Estrada had joined a gang. At 15, he was stabbed and left to die in a gangway. That same year, he was arrested for attempted manslaughter and tried in court for over a year. A month after beating the case, he was arrested again for strong-arm robbery. He beat that one too.

But even during those years, the dream of becoming a Marine never left. “I walked into a recruiter’s office at 16. The guy kicked me out. Two weeks after my 17th birthday, I came back. My mom had to sign the papers. I was gone a week after high school graduation.”

The Marines offered structure - but they also offered belonging. “Nobody knew anything about me except what I told them. I showed up on time. I was in shape. I wore my uniform with pride. That was enough to be seen as a good Marine.”

He found affirmation. He found identity. And after just a year in, while home on leave, he married his high school girlfriend. She had just turned 18, graduated, and became a Marine wife, all in the same week. They’ve now been married 32 years.

Estrada would go on to complete multiple combat tours, including in Iraq in November 2004. He was awarded commendations for valor, helped rescue isolated Marines under fire, and ultimately appeared on Marine Corps billboards in Chicago.

“I miss it every day,” he says. “I would’ve stayed forever. But I came back from Afghanistan and realized my daughter was 12. Those years mattered. I needed to be home.”

That decision began the next chapter. He worked as an independent contractor for the Department of State, later joined Homeland Security, and earned both a bachelor’s and an Executive MBA from the University of Illinois. He spent several years in corporate America, leading large-scale security operations. And eventually helped scale a private firm from $7 million to over $30 million.

But it wasn’t until 2023 that another shift happened.

Estrada and Edgar had known each other for more than a decade through jiu jitsu circles. Both had daughters in wrestling. Both trained in the mornings before work. And both were thinking about what came next.

“When he told me he was considering opening a gym, I said, ‘If you’re serious, let me know.’ He called the next day.”

Together they launched Valor Jiu Jitsu in Orland Park.

“This isn’t a meathead basement gym,” Estrada says. “We’re building a space where families feel safe. Where little boys become protectors and little girls grow confident in their skin.”

Support for the new venture came in the form of the Southland Development Authority (SDA), through what felt like a random email. “We were applying for SBA loans, and out of nowhere, we got this message from the SDA. Jamie [Makuch, SDA Relationship Manager] was the one who followed up. She explained what they do and I said, ‘That’s exactly what we need.’ Most business owners love their craft, but don’t know the backend. The SDA helped shoulder some of that.”

A Full-Circle Moment, 33 Years Later

Shortly after retiring, Estrada was working on his house near Midway Airport. Scruffy, in jeans and a t-shirt, he noticed a man walking by with two young boys. One of them had a puppy. The man was wearing a Marine Corps shirt. Estrada was immediately struck by this man. He had to say something.

“I asked, ‘Were you in the Marines?’ He said yeah. I said, ‘Is your name Albert?’ He looked shocked. I told him, ‘You used to live on 24th and Sawyer, right? You’re the reason I joined the Marines.’”

They hugged and wept. Two grown men, 33 years removed from a moment on a front stoop that had quietly changed the course of a life.

“He never knew the impression he made on a five year old boy. But I needed him to know. That’s what I want to be now… for others.”

About the Southland Development Authority

The Southland Development Authority, a not-for-profit economic development organization, is committed to driving equitable and sustainable economic growth in the south suburbs of Chicago. Through innovative programs, strategic partnerships, and impactful direct investments, the SDA is building a vibrant, inclusive economy that drives wealth growth for individuals, businesses and municipalities. Combined with the benefits of the South Suburban Land Bank and the Monarch Fund, the SDA serves as a model for regional development.