The neighborhood around RFK Stadium undergoes a transformation each fall season as it plays host to Redskins football and fans. But there has never been anything like Michael Jackson's "Victory Tour" to come this way, with fireworks and music enjoyed from front yards.

During his two concerts, which ended last night, Jackson played before more than 90,000 fans of all colors and ages who rocked and swayed inside the stadium. Outside he played to hundreds more as the the laser light and electric bass rode a wave of screams into the streets and another audience was entertained by the color and the spectacle of the Jackson phenomenon.

And Friday night, as the Jackson motorcade made its way along Independence Avenue, it became clear that the neighborhood was the best place to be outside RFK.

"We saw him," exclaimed William Tierney, 11, his friends nodding in agreement as they sat on the porch of a house at 109 19th St. SE., which is located a block from the stadium. "He was waving from the van and I hopped up and got a 'high five.' I've been dreaming about it ever since."

His friends eyed him with mock jealousy, knowing they would be hearing about this for a long time. But at least they had seen Jackson, too, live and up close -- which is more than most of the people inside could say.

When Jackson finally kicked off his show last night, many in the stadium were seated a football field away, glued to a video-screen image of a man whose moves are so well known that those outside could envision what was going on.

"He controls 'em with that hand," said Morrello Vest, 11. "He moves it like this." His Jacksonian improvisation sliced the air. "And they come alive, like they never seen a hand move before."

Even some of those spending time at the nearby D.C. General Hospital, D.C. Jail, city morgue and the rest of what is known as the Stadium-Armory complex could not ignore the presence of Jackson and his brothers in the working-class neighborhood.

At the jail, inmates were uttering catcalls to Friday night concert-goers from inside the walls until D.C. corrections officials received word of a possible jailbreak and everybody was hauled back to their cells.

Said one woman after visiting her boyfriend at the jail yesterday, "My baby couldn't see nothing. He couldn't hear nothing. So I had to tell him all about it."

At the hospital, where the Children's Services ward faces RFK, radios played late into the night as a variety of stations featured "mini" Jackson concerts and concert "dramatizations."

One patient, Daisy Boyd, 18, had been given a ticket to the Friday night concert by her coach in the Capital Wheelchair Athletic Club, but she was admitted to the hospital for surgery on Wednesday and missed the show.

"I was half asleep when I heard the fireworks and I woke up," Boyd said from her bed yesterday. "There wasn't nothing I could do about it, so I just went back to sleep."

The last time the Jacksons came to the neighborhood was in 1979, but it was nothing like this. Ticket problems had caused a near-riot outside as those who could not get inside took to the streets vandalizing cars and homes. This time, D.C. police reported no serious incidents in the stadium but there were at least 14 arrests at the concert, six for scalping tickets and eight for vending violations.

It was also clear that this time not everybody would be able to get in -- not at $30 a ticket.

"We just decided to stay home and watch the people," said Evon Jackson, who has lived in her East Capitol Street apartment for 19 years. "The little ones are having the time of their lives. Every time a limousine passes they run for it screaming, 'Michael, Michael.' "

Before descending on the nation's capital, Michael, Jermaine, Tito, Marlon and Randy had played to crowds estimated at 1.2 million persons in 11 cities, netting $30 million. The tour could gross up to $100 million by the time it ends in November in Los Angeles, tour officials say.

Tour promoter Chuck Sullivan called the Washington concerts the "most enthusiastic response of the tour." It was an ironic statement considering that at times it looked doubtful that the Jacksons would include the District in their tour.

The Jacksons finally came to town after President Reagan gently urged them to include the District as a stop.

The D.C. crowds were termed "wholesome, very family-oriented" by police. Last night's crowd included Jesse L. Jackson, presidential counselor Edwin Meese III and Miss D.C., Desiree Keating.

On stage, Jackson wowed the crowd with a mix of old and new songs that bridge two generations. He sang several songs from his "Thriller" album except for the one that his church has called a glorification of the occult -- the title song.

"I guess my sons just grew up with him," said Evon Jackson as she remembered taking her kids out to get tickets for a show or to buy an album. "They were disappointed when he left his brothers, but now they are all back together and that makes a big difference," she said.

The concert had other effects on the neighborhood as police patrols became a welcomed sight in this sometimes crime-plagued area. After each concert, a group of 100 neighborhood residents are hired to clean up the stadium at $3.50 an hour. As many youths were hired as part of a teen-age security patrol under the Mayor's Summer Jobs Program.

As helicopters circled the area with the names of radio stations playing Jackson music illuminated underneath, children and their parents congregated as close to the stadium, which flashed and roared like an erupting volcano.

Perhaps the only place in the neighborhood not affected by Jacksonmania was the D.C. Medical Examiner's Office -- the morgue. An attendant on duty both nights reported that all was quiet, as usual, except for a few flashes and crackles from the fireworks.

But then, Michael Jackson had not sung the theme from "Thriller."