HERE'S a tip for any comedians appearing in Sunderland - just don't crack any jokes at the expense of the Pennywell Estate. Because if you do, you can be sure that Gladys Chilton will get you.

Gladys is a phenomenon. A perfectly ordinary pensioner who ten years ago wouldn't have said boo to a goose, but who has done more than anyone to change a notorious council estate from a joyriders' and junkies' paradise into a pleasant place to live.

"There's still a lot to do but I think in seven years' time, people will be clamouring to live in Pennywell. And that will be a turnaround, won't it?" she asks.

Gladys is 65, walks with a stick and isn't in the best of health, but she has a Filofax bulging with appointments - youth projects, residents' association, meetings with the council, drop-in centres, making broth for 50 people, helping asylum seekers, raising money...

And in the middle of it all she's decorating a cake, beautifully, for her grandson's wedding, sorting out a problem with a cheque for a young lad, and talking to me.

"She's 50 different people in one body," says a neighbour, Rose, who's just popped in. "She'll tackle anything for anyone."

Gladys and her husband Fred - an absolute rock, says Gladys, without whom she couldn't do a fraction of what she does - and their two daughters and two sons were living in Cornwall where he had just come out of the forces and she was housekeeper to the Lord Lieutenant. But with ageing parents at home in Sunderland, they decided they had better come back up north.

"And in those days Pennywell was a nice place," she says. "The houses were lovely, really well built, there was a good shopping parade, everything you'd want."

Fred and Gladys settled and stayed. They were so happy there that they bought their council house. Then, in the early 90s, things started to change.

"The shipyards had finished. There was no work and there were a lot of problems on the estate," says Gladys. "We had so many joyriders that the police helicopter seemed to be permanently over Pennywell. There were problems with burglaries, drugs, trouble and harassment from young people. You just didn't feel safe here. You felt intimidated just walking to your own home."

One measure of how things had changed by then was the Chiltons' house - they'd bought it for £26,000, spent another £16,000 on it turning it into a little palace - but after the valuer had had a drive round the neighbourhood, it was valued at only £22,000.

"Something had to be done and we thought it would be best to start with the young people," says Gladys.

Shyly - "because I really was very quiet in those days" - she joined the Upper Pennywell Residents' Association and within six months was secretary. "I'd never done anything like that before but I gradually built up my confidence," she says.

With backing from the council - "who have always been really good and helpful, totally supportive" - they started a youth project in a room above a shop. Now it has an entire building on land donated by the church - the Pennywell Youth Project at St Thomas's. One of its services is to provide counselling for young people, "almost straightaway, so they don't have to wait for months for an appointment while their problems get worse," says Gladys. "A Task Force moved in. There was a junior task force which kept the children usefully occupied.

"The children love to help. At the moment they're making a video warning people to be careful during the demolitions," says Gladys. Many of the houses in Pennywell are coming down. They are scattered round the estate, blank-windowed and barricaded. In their place will go a mixture of new flats, houses and bungalows, a mix of private and social housing.

Things are happening on Pennywell. There are coffee mornings and drop in centres, advice sessions, ceilidhs, and concerts, an annual gala. People are getting involved, taking a pride in the place. Above all, there's a real sense of community.

Which is why Gladys was so upset a few years ago when radio DJ Paul Gough constantly used his breakfast show to poke fun at the estate. She invited him to come and see for himself how things had changed - and had him driven round in a hearse.

He was convinced, partly by Pennywell and definitely by Gladys, who has adopted him into her unofficial family so he' s now keen to help with fundraising events and pops in for his tea when he's in the area.

Another big test came when asylum seekers were added to the Pennywell mix. Housing officers explained to residents what was happening

"It was a good idea - it made people feel responsible for them somehow," says Gladys. "We've had people from Russia, Iraq, Bolivia, Colombia, all over and we get to know them."

Gladys, of course, makes them welcome, helps them settle in, collects clothes and household bits and pieces.

"The houses are furnished but it's so basic. Then you see whole families turning up with just a couple of bags between them. After all those years in the forces, I know what it's like to move into quarters and not have things you need."

One of the things that is always missed out is a set of cooking utensils - big stirring spoons, that sort of thing. So Gladys handed over her own set and bought a new one for herself The next week she did the same for another family of asylum seekers. Then another... and another... Until Fred finally put his foot down.

Fred is as involved as Gladys, drives her round, sits on committees. And as well as all the official things, they always have time for people in trouble, friends or family who need them. "When we were getting things for the asylum seekers, we realised that a lot of our own people needed things too, so we're trying to do something about that," says Gladys.

Then there's the barren bit of land that's always been used as a dumping ground. The residents' association has plans for that "It will make a nice community garden. People want to grow organic veg there ."

Things are happening. In a few years time, Pennywell really could be the place to be. "In the meantime," says Gladys, flicking through her Filofax, "if I could just have another three days in every week..."